


Turn and Face the Strange

by Chanel19



Series: Fallen [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:14:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 26,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28069905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chanel19/pseuds/Chanel19
Summary: Post-HBP AU. Ron and Hermione must face their changing relationship in the midst of a changing and chaotic world.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: Fallen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056233
Comments: 26
Kudos: 26





	1. Witch, Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> Depending on where you live, the sex in this story could be considered underage, but it would fall under the "Romeo & Juliet" close-in-age exemption, since both characters are sixteen. It's not super explicit but if that bothers you, don't read it.

The occasional sound of a log popping in the fire was the only noise in the house as Hermione curled herself into one corner of the Weasley's sofa. She'd come to the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding, which had been a lovely ceremony earlier that evening. Bill's slashed face was finally beginning to heal, but the scars were still fresh, red and angry looking. Even so, he'd been dashing in his dress robes and Fleur had, of course, been stunning in her wedding ensemble. The wedding was beautiful and Hermione had had a good day, but it had been a long one, so she was irritated that she couldn't sleep now. She needed to sleep but after tossing and turning for an hour she'd gone downstairs. She made a heatless fire and sat sipping herbal tea and watching the magical flames.

What irritated her most was that she couldn't sleep because she was nervous, almost frightened, and she hated that. The uncertainty was getting to her. Harry insisted that the search for the Horcruxes must start straight away, and she and Ron had pledged to assist him. Now that Bill and Fleur's wedding was over, their search was to begin in earnest, but Hermione wasn't ready. She wanted plans and a strategy. If they didn't return to Hogwarts, where would their base of operations be? Where would they do their research? Harry glossed over those problems as though they were insignificant, but she didn't think they could successfully mount a search without resources, and Hogwarts had what they needed. Harry was staunchly unwilling to return to school, but Hermione thought that was more out of an unwillingness to attend Hogwarts without Dumbledore, rather than because he had a better idea. Harry's stubbornness was both frustrating and nerve-wracking. She was sure that some of the magic they would learn in seventh year would serve them on their quest. Ron was atypically quiet on the subject, refusing to take sides. Hermione found his unwillingness to give his opinion even more frustrating than Harry's irrational stance. She understood Ron's problem though, he didn't want to be torn between his best mate and his girlfriend. _Ah yes, his girlfriend, and that_ , thought Hermione, _was a whole other can of worms._

Being Ron's girlfriend was more complicated than she'd originally anticipated. On the one hand, it was as natural and easy as breathing. On the other hand, it was a complicated dance that Ron was clearly leading. Her body had become a sort of battleground with clear sides, zones of conflict, and a no man's land. In the beginning, she'd had the upper hand. After all, it was her body, but lately she was in a constant state of losing ground and her own troops were against her. Sitting here quietly by herself, it seemed reasonable and responsible to wait. They were young and the world around them was in chaos. Adding sex to all that seemed ill-advised. And yet, when Ron was with her and they were alone those arguments turned the other way. They were young and would be lucky to get much older. The world was in chaos, so shouldn't they take comfort in something solid while they could?

The worst part was that Ron wasn't pushing, just steadily advancing each time they were alone. When she said stop, he stopped. No questions asked, no whining, no arguing. It was so unlike every other aspect of their relationship that it unnerved her, and threw her off guard.

"Hermione?" His voice was so deep now, like a man's. _Because he is a man_ , she thought and sighed.

"Yes?" She replied.

"What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same question."

Ron flopped down next to her on the sofa, stretching his bare feet toward the fire, even though she'd cast it to be heatless on the warm summer night. "Can't sleep."

"Worried about tomorrow?"

"Yeah. You?"

"I just don't think it's a good idea to go off half-cocked looking for these things without some sort of plan."

"Yeah," Ron said. "Me neither."

"Well, why haven't you said so?"

Ron put his arm around her and pulled her close to him. "You know why."

"We can't just keep going along with this."

Ron kissed the top of her head. "We'll talk to him in the morning. He'll see reason."

"I hope so," Hermione said, snuggling closer to him. His T-shirt was worn, very soft cotton that was comforting against her cheek.

"Don't worry," he told her, pushing her hair back over her shoulder. "We won't do anything stupid, and we won't let him do anything stupid without us."

Hermione nodded as her fingers worried the hem of his T-shirt. "I hate that everything is so different now. So scary," she said, softly.

He didn't answer but instead lifted her chin and leaned down to kiss her. In the back of Hermione's mind she reminded herself not to let this go too far. They were on the sofa at the Burrow, not the place to explore more territory, but that thought quickly faded to the back of her mind as Ron continued to kiss her. More and more thoughts receded, which was a relief because with the thoughts went the worries.

Hermione was still in her muggle street clothes but Ron didn't seem to care. His T-shirt came off quickly as his shirts always did. She liked the feel of his skin and he seemed to like her feeling it. Minutes passed before Ron's hands began to work at her shirt. This was relatively new. He'd caressed her breasts before but always through her clothes, but the last time they'd been together he'd pulled her top off and caressed her through her bra. That had been a couple of weeks ago, though, and it took her by surprise that he was unbuttoning her shirt now.

"Ron?" she said.

"What?" he asked, but instead of waiting for her reply, he kissed her neck.

Hermione started to say something but it came out as a soft moan.

Ron continued undoing buttons. Hermione let it go. No point in fighting over ground she'd already lost no matter how long ago.

It was awkward being shoved into the corner of the sofa. Ron must have sensed that because he got up and said, "Let's stretch out, I'm tired of being all cramped up."

As he stood, Hermione could tell exactly what about him was tired of being cramped. Still, she scooted forward and stretched out on the sofa.

Ron lay down beside her. "That's better," he said and resumed kissing her.

She could feel him hard and insistent against her thigh, but she tried not to think about that, which wasn't difficult as he began to kiss his way down her torso, her shirt now open and out of the way. When his mouth reached her bra, he didn't stop and kissed her breast through the thin material. This was deliciously new and the sensation seemed to race through her whole body, leaving her with a desire to do many things, which she knew to be a bad idea, especially right now, especially right there. Unfortunately, there was no time to express that idea, because while Ron's lips worried one breast, his fingers moved to the other but stopped in the center of her bra. Too late, Hermione remember she was wearing a front clasp.

Ron pushed himself up and smiled down at her. "Brilliant," was all he said as his fingers undid the clasp.

Hermione didn't bother saying anything. All was lost here anyway and she desperately wanted to feel his mouth without the interference of fabric. The sensation did not disappoint. She was lost in the need for more and her own hands began to wander. She never heard the tell-tale popping of apparition. It wasn't until Mrs. Weasley shrieked "Ronald Weasley!" that Hermione realized just how terribly wrong things had gone.

Her first thought was that Ron shouldn't immediately get off of her because she had no top on, unfortunately Ron didn't have the same thought, and leaped off the sofa as if propelled by a spring. This gave Hermione a full of view of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's shocked faces and gave them a full view of her. She knew for a fact that time did not actually slow down, but it felt like it took years to get off the sofa and turn her back to them. Her fingers felt like sausages as she struggled to close the clasp on her bra and button her shirt, and to her horror, button her pants.

"Ronald, kitchen NOW!" roared Mr. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to stay where she was because even after Mr. Weasley and Ron had clearly left the room, Hermione could still hear her making tsking noises and saying softly "Oh my."

Hermione could not turn around. Even after everything was buttoned, she still couldn't turn around. She could only imagine what sort of state her hair was in. Why wouldn't Mrs. Weasley leave? Didn't she want a shot at yelling at Ron too? Oh, please, Hermione thought desperately, please don't stay in here and yell at me.

"Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley said.

Hermione's heart was racing so fast she felt like it would explode right out of her chest.

"Sit down, dear."

It was worse than she'd thought. Mrs. Weasley wasn't going to yell. She was going to be what? Kind and disappointed? Hermione thought she'd die right there.

"Please, sit down."

Hermione turned around but wouldn't meet Mrs. Weasley's eyes. She could clearly see, however, that Mrs. Weasley was holding her wand.

_She's going to hex me_ , Hermione thought frantically.

But instead, Mrs. Weasley's wand swished through the air followed by an incantation Hermione didn't recognized and a tea service appeared on the side table. While Mrs. Weasley busied herself making tea, Hermione frantically pushed down her hair with her hands. She knew it was no use, but she couldn't think what else to do.

A few moments later, she was handed a cup of what the color and fragrance told her was chamomile tea.

"Relax, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "I'm not going to shout at you."

_I wish you would,_ Hermione thought. Anything would be better than some bizarre attempt at girl talk over tea as though they'd just gotten in from shopping. But what Mrs. Weasley said next shocked Hermione to the core.

"Now, I know your parents are Muggles." Mrs. Weasley sipped her tea.

_She doesn't want Ron with me because I'm Muggle-born? How is that possible? I've never heard her say—_

"So, I'm guessing you don't have a lot of experience with magical men," Mrs. Weasley continued kindly.

_Oh no,_ Hermione groaned inwardly. _Oh, no, not the sex talk._ "Mrs. Weasley my mother has already—"

"It's a bit different in the wizarding world though, dear."

Hermione looked up at her for the first time.

"Do you know how to cast a contraception charm?"

If Hermione had thought she'd been embarrassed before, her face now felt so hot that she seriously thought it might catch fire. "Mrs. Weasley we weren't—"

"Hermione, I have seven children. I know what you were doing." Her voice was more severe than it had been up to that point.

If the sofa could have simply swallowed Hermione at that moment, that would have been fine, good even. Sadly, she remained where she was.

"Do you know how to cast the charm?"

Hermione shook her head. Actually, she was disgusted with her own lack of initiative on this. Why hadn't she looked up that charm? She knew just as well as Mrs. Weasley did where she and Ron were eventually headed. How could she have been so remiss?

"An unplanned pregnancy during a war is not an easy thing to live with."

_Pregnancy._ Hermione swallowed hard. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

"I would hate to see you two in over your heads, so why don't I show you that charm."

Five humiliating minutes later, Hermione could cast a perfect contraception charm. She was grateful that she was a quick study and good with magic. One minute more would have done her in.

"Very good, dear. You always were a quick study." Mrs. Weasley stood and with a flick of her wand the tea service disappeared. "And Hermione, please be careful. A wizard can be hard to resist, so make sure you're ready and that it's what you really want. Regret is a terrible state to live in."

Hermione nodded. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley. I wasn't…we didn't start out…it was disrespectful. I'm really sorry."

Mrs. Weasley patted her hand. "Apology accepted, dear, no harm done. Let's head up to bed, shall we?"

Just then Ron burst into the room, his face red. "Hermione?" He was still bare-chested, wearing only his cotton pajama bottoms. A look of confusion crossed his face as if he expected the scene in front of him to be different somehow.

Mrs. Weasley frowned at him. "Five minutes, Ronald and then you better be upstairs alone in your bed. Understood?"

Hermione felt her face burning again.

Ron looked at his mother. "Yeah, five minutes." He leaned over to pick up his discarded T-shirt from the sofa and pulled it on.

Mrs. Weasley walked out of the room.

Hermione started to cry. Ron wrapped her in a hug and she sobbed against his chests. "Your parents saw me with my top open," she cried.

"I'm sorry," Ron murmured against her hair.

"My pants were unbuttoned. I don't even know when you did that." The words came out broken.

"I'm so sorry," Ron repeated.

"She taught me the contraception charm."

Ron looked down at her, "Really?"

Hermione only cried harder and pressed her face tightly against his chest. "It was humiliating."

Ron held her tighter.

"How am I supposed to face them at breakfast? How am I ever supposed to look them in the eye again?"

Ron took her by the shoulders and held her away from him. "Look at me, Hermione."

She sniffled and looked up at him.

"Are you ashamed of me?"

Hermione wiped at her eyes. "Of course not."

"Do you wish you were with someone else? Someone better?"

"No," Hermione answered, her voice stronger now.

"Good. Then I'll tell you what I told my dad. One day I'm going to make love to you. Not here on some old sofa, but in the right place at the right time, and I'm not ashamed of that and you shouldn't be either."

Hermione's face crumpled. "But Ron, they caught us on the sofa—"

"And that was wrong, but that's the extent of what I feel bad about. I feel bad about not respecting their home, but I'm never going to be ashamed of being with you or wanting you. Never." His voice was so hard and his eyes were so fierce, she couldn't help but draw strength from them.

Hermione nodded and thought she had never loved him more than she did at that moment. She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him softly on the mouth. "Thank you."

Ron smiled at her. "What are you on about?"

Hermione smiled back. "You know what I'm on about. I'm going upstairs now."

The next morning, Hermione was the last one down for breakfast. To her surprise, her usual spot next to Ron was open and waiting for her. She sat down feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. Mr. Weasley passed her the eggs while Mrs. Weasley poured her some tea, and to her relief the sounds of the family around her went on unabated, as if they knew as she did, that she was where she belonged. Next to Ron.


	2. Propriety

Quite to Ron's dismay, the next week passed in perfect propriety. Hermione gave him only the most chaste of kisses before going up to bed and only consented to hold his hand on long walks around the countryside near the Burrow.

Ron struggled not to snap at everyone in his mounting frustration. The only thing that seemed to be going right was that he and Hermione had managed to convince Harry to at least wait until his birthday to begin the search for the Horcruxes. Hermione had had a dozen different reasons why it was important to wait, but Ron had convinced her to focus on one. Harry had to be seventeen to get his license to Apparate. In the end, they were triumphant and Harry consented to wait.

Two weeks of breathing room left everyone a bit more at ease. The summer was a hot one and now that the hustle and bustle of preparing for Bill and Fleur's wedding was over, almost every afternoon found the four of them at the pond. This was Ron's favorite part of the day. Although Hermione wore a demure one piece suit, it looked smashing on her, and Ron loved to watch her walk out of the pond with her hair a mass of wet curls and water streaming off her body. Of course, the fun of that was somewhat dampened by Ginny running around in a bikini that was really next to nothing, which Harry certainly didn't mind. _Why wasn't anyone questioning their propriety?_ Ron didn't really want Harry and Ginny to get in trouble, but it seemed so unfair that they were so free and relaxed around each other, while he and Hermione had regressed to awkward and uncomfortable. Ron shifted on the blanket where he was sitting in the shade watching the girls splashing each other and laughing. _Especially uncomfortable_ , he thought.

"Hey," Harry said as he flopped down on the blanket next to Ron. "Why aren't you swimming?"

"Taking a break," Ron grumbled without looking at him.

Harry smiled. "Nice view."

"Watch it," Ron said. "That's my sister you're ogling."

Harry laughed off Ron's threat. "Hermione's like my sister, but I don't give you a hard time about ogling her."

Ron didn't rise to the bait and instead changed the subject. "Have you sent the owl?"

"Yeah, I hope she's quick with her response."

Ron shrugged. He personally hoped Professor McGonagall would say that they had to wait to take their Apparition tests. It's not that he didn't feel ready to Apparate, he just didn't feel ready to begin looking for the Horcruxes.

"Come on," Harry said. "Let's get in."

Ron followed him into the water and they swam over to the girls who were standing in the shallows on the other side of the pond.

"Let's play a game or something," Harry said.

"You mean like chicken?" Hermione asked.

All three of them looked at her blankly. "I learned it over hols last year." Hermione went on to explain that the girls rode on the boys' shoulders and tried to pull each other off into the water. It turned out to be a fairly even match. Ron and Hermione were bigger, but Harry and Ginny were faster. In minutes, they were all laughing as they struggled to remain standing while trying to pull the other team over. Finally, Ron managed to find solid footing just as Hermione got a good hold of Ginny, so Ginny came tumbling off into the water, pulling Harry over with her. Ron and Hermione threw up their arms in victory, which almost sent her off his shoulders, but he quickly steadied her with his hands back on her knees.

"Brilliant game," Ron crowed. "Where'd you learn it?"

"An American boy taught it to us at the club last summer."

Ron paused. _An American boy?_ "What American boy?" he asked, shifting Hermione's weight on his shoulders.

She steadied herself by leaning forward, her breasts just grazing the top of his head. "A Muggle boy, my parents set us—" Her words were cut off with a squeal as Ron dropped her.

"Your parents hooked you up with some filthy American Muggle?" Ron spat the words at her.

Hermione pulled herself from the water red-faced and clearly furious.

"What exactly makes him filthy, Ronald, that he's American or that he's a Muggle?"

"Oh, don't get smart with me," Ron sneered. "Just how much time did you spend with that slimy yank?"

"Exactly how is that any of your business?" Hermione growled back.

"Oh, as much time as all that?" Ron shouted.

Hermione cupped her hand and threw water at his face. "Sod you, Ron." She splashed angrily through the water until it was deep enough to swim, and then she headed for the dock on the other side of the pond.

Ginny glared angrily at Ron and then followed Hermione.

"Hey," Harry said, as Ginny swam away. Then he turned to Ron. "Well done, thanks mate."

Ron just grunted at him.

Harry shrugged and watched the girls pull themselves on to the dock. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but judging from the animated way in which Hermione was speaking, it wasn't nice.

"I don't know why you go on these jealous rages. It's clear she's mad about you," Harry said.

"You don't know what it's like," Ron grumbled. "I've only ever been with Lavender before her, and now, every time I turn around, some other bloke's gone at her."

"Are you mad? The hell I don't know what it's like. I'm with Ginny."

Ron turned on him. "Hey!"

"Hey, yourself. I'm going to try and salvage what's left of the afternoon."

xxx

Ginny had overtaken Hermione by the time she reached the dock. Hermione wasn't a strong swimmer, but rage had pushed her forward across the pond. She was already talking in an angry rush as they pulled themselves up on to the dock.

"…so self-righteous…spends almost all term with his tongue down Lavender's throat and dares to question me about summer hols…if that isn't the most hypocritical…"

"Hermione?" Ginny ventured.

"What?" Hermione shouted.

Ginny stepped back, her eyebrows raised.

"Sorry," Hermione said. "Your brother makes me crazy."

"Clearly," Ginny replied with a grin. "Still," she said. "Not to say that's he's right, because he isn't, but you know it makes him crazy thinking of you snogging some other bloke. Just say you didn't and be done with it."

Hermione looked up sheepishly. "But I did."

Ginny laughed. "Hermione Granger, you tart."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, it wasn't all that. It was only once and not a proper snog, just a quick kiss really. He was very tall, and lanky, and he had red hair."

Ginny laughed. "Well, no one can say you don't have a type."

Hermione shrugged. "He did rather remind me of Ron, except that all he talked about was American football, which I must say, I really couldn't follow, and whenever we talked about school, I had to keep making things up. I'm afraid it turned out rather muddled. He probably thinks English schools are quite mad."

Ginny picked up her towel from the dock and started drying off. "So what do you want to do? It's so hot, I hate to go back to the house."

Hermione nodded as she wrapped her own towel around her waist. "It doesn't seem fair leaving them down here to enjoy the water."

Just then, Harry popped up to cling to the side of the dock. "Fancy a swim, Gin?"

Ginny looked at Hermione.

"Go on. I'm just going to read in the shade."

xxx

Ron was standing in the shallow end of the pond by himself. He could see Harry and Ginny swimming and Hermione reading under a big oak tree. He was furious, furious with Hermione for not telling him she'd dated an American last summer, and furious with himself for getting so angry about it. _Why do I care? She's with me now._ He sat down in the water and slammed his arms down angrily. The resulting splash covered his head and he spit out water in frustration. He looked across the pond and watched Hermione reading, looking as though she hadn't a care in the world. Finally, he stood and walked until he could swim. He pulled himself up on the dock, grabbed his towel and walked toward Hermione as he dried off. When his shadow fell across her, she looked up.

"I'm a stupid git."

"You're not stupid." She looked back down at her book.

"I'm sorry for saying that American bloke was a filthy Muggle. You know I don't have anything against Muggles."

"I certainly hope not, considering I'm Muggle-born."

Ron ran his fingers through his wet hair and considered his next words carefully. In frustration, he decided to throw caution to the wind and tell the truth. "I can't help it. I can't stand the idea of you dating some American Muggle when we haven't even had a proper snog in a week."

Hermione blushed. "Ron," she hissed. "We can't, not after what happened."

Ron dropped down on the blanket beside her. "I don't care about that. I can't stand it anymore."

Hermione blanched and set down her book. "What are you saying?"

Ron suddenly realized how he sounded. "Not...I just…I miss you." He trailed his fingers along her arm, and to his delight, saw her flesh goose pimple despite the heat.

"We weren't dating, not really," Hermione said softly.

"What's that mean?"

"We only went out a couple of times. I did it to appease my parents. He was visiting from America where he lives with his mum. His dad lives in London and works with my parents."

"Oh, so you didn't—"

"Please don't think another thing about it." 

"It's forgotten," Ron said and leaned in for a kiss but Hermione pulled her head back.

"Ron, we're out in the open. Harry and Ginny are just over there."

"So, it's safe, yeah? How much can we do out here?" He looked over his shoulder at Harry and Ginny. He couldn't see below the water but they seemed pretty cozy. "Besides," he said. "Like they'd notice."

Hermione looked over his shoulder at Harry and Ginny. "I see your point."

This time, he cupped her face in his hands so she couldn't back away. Kissing her was lovely. All the frustration of the week seemed to seep away from him along with all of his insecurities about the American, McClaggen, Krum, or any other bloke he'd ever caught looking at her. Her mouth was amazing he decided. Really, it ranked right up there with her mind and her hair for the Amazing-things-about-Hermione list he kept in his head. But as she settled back against the blanket and pressed his chest against hers, he felt her breasts move to the top of the list. He struggled not to let his hands wander, which turned out to be a smart plan as he heard his mother calling "lunch" as she walked down the path to the pond. Ron rolled off Hermione and glanced down at his own rather obvious state of affairs.

"I'm jumping in for a swim."

Hermione followed his eyes. "It must be so embarrassing to be a boy."

"You've no idea," Ron grumbled and walked over to the dock where he dove into the water just as his mother came into the clearing with a tray of drinks and sandwiches.

Hermione noticed that Harry and Ginny had separated but that Harry stayed in the water and that he and Ron were now splashing and pushing each other. Ginny waggled her eyebrows and grinned at Hermione when she came out of the water, wrapping her towel around her waist as she headed for the sandwiches.

"Oh, it's lovely down here in the shade," Mrs. Weasley commented.

"You should have a swim, Mum." Ginny said, pulling a ham sandwich from the stack.

Ron and Harry looked up.

"Oh, no, much too much work to do for the Order. Meeting tonight, you know?"

"Do you need any help, Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione asked reaching for a glass of pumpkin juice.

"You're sweet to ask, but no. You lot enjoy the day. Mind you bring the tray back to the house when you're done. Ginny you need to do another protection charm, you're going a bit pink, dear. Remind Ron as well."

Mrs. Weasley walked back to the house and Ginny found her wand over by the blanket and performed the charm to protect her fair skin from the sun. "I hate this bloody charm," she grumbled, "I wish I tanned like you."

Hermione shrugged. "Actually, I was just thinking I should learn the charm. Tanning's not good for you."

"Neither are loads of freckles and deathly white skin." Ginny countered.

"I'm mad for your freckles," Harry said as he and Ron walked up. "Each and every one of them."

"Please," Ron said. "You'll put me off lunch."

They all laughed as the boys reached for juice and sandwiches. They sat around eating under the shade of the tree for a while before Harry asked Ginny if she fancied a walk. The two pulled on their trainers and headed along the path. Ron was torn between wondering what those two were up to and being happy to have Hermione to himself.

"I'm glad we have some time alone," Hermione said.

Ron grinned. _Yes,_ he thought.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh," he said, the grin fading.

"I don't know what's going to happen once we start the search for the Horcruxes in earnest."

Ron sighed, wishing she weren't so anxious about that. "I know, I don't either but there's no sense—"

"Let me finish, please, this isn't easy."

Ron sat back. Hermione bit her lower lip. She was very sexy when she did that, but he cautioned himself to pay attention. The way she was worrying her fingers told him she was serious and he needed to listen.

"I want to see my parents, once more before we start, and I'd like you to come with me."

Ron's eyebrows shot up. He hadn't been expecting this. "When were you thinking?"

"This weekend. I could owl them and see if we could come Friday and stay through Sunday."

"I don't know, Hermione."

"I really need to see them, Ron. I don't know when I'll have another opportunity, and well, I thought it would be nice if they got to know you a bit."

"But they'll think I'm rubbish," Ron said. "I don't know anything about the Muggle world. I've never used eckletricity and I've only ever used that telethingy once and that was rot. I'll make a right fool of myself and Dad says eckletricity can kill you if you do it wrong."

Hermione smiled. "I'm not going to let the electricity kill you. It's not as dangerous as all that. I just…" she touched his hand and intertwined her fingers with his "I really need to do this."

Her touch was all it took. "Let's go ask Mum then, if she's for it, we'll send the owl."


	3. Awkward Conversations

If Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were concerned about Ron and Hermione going to stay with Hermione's parents, they had the good graces not to say so. Hermione's parents had sent the owl back with a note that this weekend was fine for a visit and that they saw their last patient at two o'clock. Since Ron still didn't have his Apparition license, Mr. Weasley agreed to take Ron to the train station side-along and Hermione would Apparate on her own.

Thursday evening, Hermione was upstairs packing her bags when Ginny came in from an after-dinner walk with Harry. Hermione looked up when Ginny closed the door behind her.

"Hey," she said, noting the younger girl's flushed face.

Ginny nodded at her and flopped down on her bed.

Hermione continued packing as Ginny lay on her back looking up at the ceiling.

"Hermione," Ginny said after a long time. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure," Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed.

"When you and Ron decided to…" She sighed. "Never mind."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"It's too awkward. Forget it."

"Alright then." Hermione continued sorting through her socks and underwear, trying to decide which T-shirts to take with her when Ginny sat up.

"When you and Ron decided to shag, did you talk about it first, or did it just sort of happen?"

Hermione dropped the T-shirt she was holding. "Who said anything about shagging?"

"What?"

"Did Ron tell you we were having sex?"

Ginny made a face. "Course not, ewww."

"Did Harry say Ron said something?"

"Hermione!"

"Then what makes you say that?"

"Well, with all the shouting the other night and when I used the extendable ears-"

Hermione was scandalized. "You listened in on our private conversation?"

"Well, not you and Mum. She had the sense to Imperturb the door."

"So you listened in on Ron and your Dad?"

"They didn't Imperturb the door. Actually, I didn't even need the ears for the first part of it, Dad was shouting so."

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and put her face in her hands. 

"It's not as bad as all that," Ginny said sheepishly.

"Your Dad thinks we're shagging?" She shook her head. "What a nightmare."

"Well, he didn't actually say that, but when he said you were starkers, I just thought."

Hermione dropped her hands. "I was not! I had on my trousers. My shirt was open but not off!"

Ginny shrugged. "Sorry, I just assumed."

Hermione stood and began furiously packing her clothes again. "Well, you shouldn't make assumptions and you shouldn't listen in on other people's private conversations."

"Sorry," Ginny mumbled and lay back down with her fingers laced behind her head.

Hermione was fuming but when she looked down at her packing she realized she'd lost track. "Bollocks," she growled and dumped all the contents of her bag back on to the bed and started again. She worked for a few minutes and then abandoned the whole thing. She sat on the side of the bed facing Ginny. "Why do you ask?"

Ginny looked at her. "What?"

"Why did you ask about Ron and me, are you and Harry…Harry's not pushing you, is he?"

"No," Ginny said as she sat up. "If anything, it's the opposite. He keeps holding back."

"Well, you are awfully young."

"I'm just a year younger than you lot. And don't take this wrong, but in a lot of ways, Harry and I are older than you and Ron."

Hermione looked down at her fingers. She knew what Ginny said was true. Harry and Ginny had experienced horrors that she and Ron had only been on the periphery of.

"Still," Hermione said. "There's no need to rush."

"Isn't there?" Ginny asked. "I know what you three are planning. I know how dangerous it'll be, and I know there's no way I'll be allowed to go."

Hermione nodded.

"I just want to have him, really have him, before I lose him. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," Hermione said quietly.

"Then why does he keep holding back?"

Hermione shook her head. "Have you talked to him?"

"No." Ginny said. "It's kind of a difficult subject to discuss." She gestured between them. "As is obvious."

Hermione smiled and then pressed her fingertips against her eyelids. "I wish I knew what to tell you. Personally, I don't know how anyone manages to have sex in this house. There is absolutely no privacy."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Tell me about it." Then she looked at Hermione, her eyes narrowing.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"That's why you're off to your parents' house."

"Don't be preposterous," Hermione said, but she could feel herself blushing.

"Well," Ginny said, lying back down. "That's that then."

Hermione didn't say anything. She just smiled and went back to packing.

xXx

From the Burrow to the Devonport train station was the furthest Hermione had ever Apparated. She couldn't say she enjoyed it, but at least she came through all in one piece. Ron and Mr. Weasley appeared beside her a moment later.

"Alright then," Mr. Weasley said. "Well, you two have a good time. Ron mind your manners and," he added in a lower voice, "pay attention to everything. I want a full report when you get back."

Ron nodded.

"I'll pick you up Sunday, right back here, six o'clock sharp." He pressed something into Ron's hand and then disappeared with a pop.

Ron pocketed whatever his father had given him and then turned to Hermione. "Reckon we better find our train."

"It's this way." She took his hand. She couldn't help thinking how cute he was when he was nervous.

Ron shifted his rucksack on his shoulders and picked up her bag.

The train wasn't crowded so they managed a section of seats to themselves. Ron settled their bags in the overhead storage rack, then sat next to Hermione and took her hand.

"Is it silly to be kind of excited?" Ron asked.

"Of course not."

"I've never been in London outside of Diagon Alley."

"I think you'll like Muggle London. I just hope you like my parents."

"I've always liked them before," Ron said. "I just hope they like me."

Hermione twisted her ticket in her hands. "I hope so too," she said without thinking.

Ron gave her a stricken look.

"I mean," she quickly amended, "I'm sure they will. They always have before." To ease his mind, she snuggled up against him. The train ride took four hours. Hermione read. Ron alternated between looking out the window and watching the gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she read. It was nice to have this quiet time together. There were just enough Muggles in the car that they couldn't discuss the upcoming hunt for Horcruxes, and for that, Ron was grateful. When they finally reached Paddington Station, Hermione hailed them a cab. Ron was completely terrorized during the taxi ride to her parents' house. His eyes were like saucers as the cabbie negotiated the busy streets. He kept hissing things into her ear. "This is mad, we could actually hit some of these people. Muggles are mental."

Hermione kept patting his arm and telling him to relax. She had never seen anyone look as relieved as Ron did when they emerged unscathed on to the sidewalk in front of her parents' townhouse.

Ron looked up at the house Hermione was walking toward and let out a low whistle. "You didn't tell me your parent's lived in a mansion."

"It's not a mansion," Hermione said defensively. "It's a townhouse."

"It's four stories."

"The Burrow is five stories," she said.

"Five lopsided stories," Ron argued.

"Well, their offices are on the ground floor, so that doesn't really count."

"Of course, it counts," Ron said. "It's really nice. All brick?"

"It's really old. Drafty," Hermione said, tugging him forward by the arm. "Like Grimmauld Place, only not so creepy."

"Grimmauld Place is huge." The front door opened, and Hermione's mother hurried down the front steps toward them.

"Oh, it's so nice to see you," she cried as she rushed forward to embrace Hermione. Mr. Granger followed behind his wife and shook Ron's hand heartily before turning to hug his daughter. It struck Ron at that moment that this was it. This was Hermione's whole family, just these three people. It was difficult to imagine. Suddenly, his presence there seemed imbued with a new seriousness. He could feel the butterflies in his stomach clench into a tight ball of nerves.

The first few minutes were hugs and kisses and talk of the trip into London. After that, Ron followed Hermione upstairs to put away their luggage. She led him to the top floor and opened a door. Inside was a big bed with a dark blue bedspread and a window overlooking the back garden and a park beyond. There was a tiny loo off the room. Ron set his rucksack on the bed and looked around. "This is really nice."

Hermione smiled. "I'm glad you like it. Want to see my room?"

Ron grinned. "Sure." He picked up her bag and was surprised to see her open a door just down from his. "Our rooms are next to each other?"

Hermione nodded. "My bedroom has always been on the top floor. It's the best place to use a telescope."

"Of course," Ron said, smiling. "What else?" He set down her suitcase and turned to her. "Won't your parents mind?"

She rolled her eyes. "There are two guest rooms in this house. You can either have the one I put you in, or you can have the pink one across the hall from it, either way, we're on the same floor."

"And your parents don't mind?"

She rested a palm against his chest and looked him in the eye. "No."

The look unnerved him. "If you say so," Ron said and looked around the room. Not surprisingly, it was full of books. The aforementioned telescope was in one corner next to a door that led out to a tiny balcony. The bed was similar to the one in Ron's room, but it had a white bedspread with little yellow flowers. Another door led to a much larger bathroom than the one in his room. "Nice," he said.

Hermione looked around as if seeing the room for the first time. "I suppose. We should get back to my parents though."

Mr. and Mrs. Granger were in the kitchen when Ron and Hermione came back downstairs.

"All settled, dear?" Mrs. Granger asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

Mr. Granger cleared his throat. "Well, Ron, what do you say we head down to the pub and catch the cricket match? Let the girls have a cup of tea and bit of chin wag, eh?"

"Um, sure," Ron said, casting a desperate look at Hermione.

She smiled weakly back at him.

He followed Mr. Granger back out the front door.

Her mother clapped her hands together and said, "I'll put on the kettle."

"That sounds good, Mum, I'll be right back." She hurried out after the men.

She called down to them from the top of the stairs. "Dad, may I have a word?"

Just as she'd hoped, he walked back upstairs, leaving Ron on the sidewalk below.

"Dad," Hermione said softly. "Please remember, Ron's not been outside the wizarding world much. He doesn't know beans about cricket, and he really doesn't understand the way things work, so watch out for him."

Her father kissed her forehead. "Of course, darling."

Hermione walked back inside with nerves coiling tightly in her stomach.

Her mother was setting a plate of Hobnobs on the kitchen table. "Sit down, dear."

That was a bad sign. Her mother was in the habit of calling her "dear" when she wanted to have a serious talk. Hermione sat down at the table and her mother took the chair opposite her. "Ron seems like a nice boy."

Hermione nodded and took a biscuit. "He is."

"You two have known each other for such a long time."

"Six years," Hermione said and took the tinniest nibble of her Hobnob.

"But this is the first time you've brought him home, the first time you've brought anyone home."

"About time, don't you think?" Hermione was trying for a breezy tone, but it sounded a little manic instead.

"Nothing's happened has it, dear? You've not brought him home to announce anything, have you?"

The kettle screamed, Hermione jumped, and her mother popped up and took it off the cooker. As her mother busied herself over the tea, Hermione tried to think frantically at what her mother was getting at. Since her mother didn't know about the war, Hermione could only think of two things she might be referring to, marriage or pregnancy. Having just had this sort of conversation with Ron's mother, she was in no mood to have it again with her own. Her mind raced with ways to change the subject, but nothing coalesced before her mother put the tea set on the table.

 _Okay_ , Hermione thought, _I'll be straightforward and maybe she'll be so relieved she'll change the subject._ "Sorry, Mum, no announcements. I just thought you and Dad should meet him and he you. I mean, I've spent loads of time with his family. It just seemed proper for him to spend some time with mine."

Her mother visibly relaxed and poured the tea. "So you're dating then?"

 _Actually, we've never been on a date, but that's too confusing to explain_. "Yes." She dropped a lump of sugar in her tea and stirred.

"I see, well, I-"

"Mum," Hermione interrupted, unable to stand the tension anymore. "What are you getting at?"

Her mother quietly stirred her tea for a moment. "Well, dear, before you left for the Weasley's this summer you brought up that whole business about coming of age at seventeen in the wizarding world, then you come back unexpectedly, with Ron in tow. It makes one think."

Hermione sighed. "Mum, I was only trying to explain how it was I could do magic around the house now without getting in trouble. That's all, and I've already explained about Ron."

Her mother smiled weakly. "It's just we haven't really talked about boys since before you left for Hogwarts, and well, I do hope you're being careful, dear."

 _No!_ Hermione thought. _No, no, no, no, why is this happening?_

"I thought perhaps while you were home, I could make an appointment for you with the doctor."

"Mum. I don't need—"

"Not the regular doctor, a woman's doctor."

"Mum! I don't need a doctor, any kind of doctor. I've explained this. I don't go to regular doctors." _What have I done to deserve this?_

"I'm just concerned, Hermione. I don't understand the wizarding world. I just want to make sure you're safe."

 _Oh, just say it, so she'll stop beating around the bush_. "I know how to cast a contraception charm, all right, Mum."

Her mother dropped her eyes and poured milk in her tea. "All right then, dear."

There was an incredibly long, awkward silence.

Her mother cleared her throat. "How were your marks this term?"

"Good. I can bring them down if you like. I brought them with me."

"Oh, yes. I know your father will want to see them too."

Hermione walked up to her room hoping with every fiber of her being that Ron was having a better time than she was. She was very concerned that her parents had decided on a divide-and-conquer strategy before they arrived.

xXx

At the pub, Ron was fascinated with the television. Cricket made no sense despite Mr. Granger's attempt to explain it, but the television was brilliant.

"…and that's where the term sticky wicket comes from," Mr. Granger finished. He took a big swallow of his ale.

"Hmm," Ron nodded. "I don't get it."

Mr. Granger sighed. "Hang it all, Ron, I don't really follow cricket myself. I'm a football fan mostly."

Ron wasn't sure how to respond.

"I brought you down here to talk about Hermione."

"Oh." Ron nervously drank some of his ginger beer and wished he could have the real stuff. Only Muggles made a bloke wait until he was eighteen before he could order a pint.

"Look, I understand that she's grown up now. I can see that. And I understand the need for privacy at your age. It's natural not to want to share everything with your parents."

 _Oh, no,_ Ron thought. _What the hell is he on about?_

"But when she came home last summer, injured with a note from Madame Pomfrey and potions to take, she lied to us." Mr. Granger's jaw was clenched. "I can see from the scars on your arms that you've been injured as well."

Ron moved his arms under the table. "Sir…"

"After she came home like that, I sent a letter to Dumbledore. Great man, Dumbledore, I was very sad to hear of his passing."

Ron nodded.

"The short of it is, I've been getting **The Daily Prophet**."

"What?" Ron asked, shocked. "The ministry lets you do that?"

"Of course, it's very restricted. It arrives late at night and I have exactly an hour to read it before it disintegrates, but I'm starting to understand, I think."

 _This is a bloody nightmare_ , Ron thought. _What did I do to deserve this?_

"It seems to me, that," Mr. Granger continued, "there's a war beginning in your world and that sometimes it spills over into mine. Am I reading that right?"

Ron looked up at him. For some reason, having Mr. Granger say those words gave them a weight and a resonance they'd never quite had before. "Yeah," Ron said quietly. "You're reading that right."

"My God." Mr. Granger let his head fall back against the booth where they were sitting. "And you're caught up in it, you're both caught up in it, with the Potter boy?"

Ron brought his arms back up on the table and looked down at the thin white scars covering them. "Yeah. Yeah, we are."

There was a long silence and then Mr. Granger said, "I don't suppose there's anything you could do to keep her out of it."

Ron shook his head. "She'd only hex me, and then there'd just be one less person to help."

"I know she won't listen to me on the matter."

"You've spoken to her?" Ron picked at the paper coaster under his drink.

"No. Once she lied about how she got hurt, I knew there was no point in bringing this up with her. That's why I wanted to talk to you."

"I'm sure she just doesn't want you to worry, sir."

"It's my right to worry. Just as it's your parents' right to worry over you. She's my daughter, my only child, it's my right."

Ron nodded. He genuinely felt bad for Mr. Granger. "Does Mrs. Granger read the Prophet as well?"

"No. She doesn't even know that I get it. There's no point in worrying her."

 _Well, I guess I see where Hermione gets it then._ Ron took a sip of his ginger beer.

"She's worried Hermione's come home to tell us she's eloped or worse."

Ron spewed his drink.

Mr. Granger laughed. "Caught you on that one."

Ron wiped his mouth.

"Her mother was so concerned this morning." He imitated Mrs. Granger. "Oh, why is she coming home so suddenly? What if she's pregnant?"

Ron's eyes widened. Mr. Granger ignored him and continued.

"What if they've run off and got married?" He took another drink of his ale. "And I just kept thinking, let it be that, don't let her be coming home for one last visit before the war."

Mr. Granger's words hit Ron like a punch. _Bloody hell, is that what this is for her, a drink before the war_? "I'm sorry, Mr. Granger."

"But she's talented though?" Mr. Granger asked. "She can handle herself?"

"She's brilliant; best in our year. Maybe best in the school," Ron said with pride.

"She was always precocious, although, we didn't always know how to handle it. It was a relief, really, when Dumbledore showed up the first time. She was only ten then. Did you know that?"

Ron didn't. He shook his head.

"She'd had a bit of a tangle with an older girl at school. Mysteriously, this girl suddenly ended up in the middle of a moor over a mile from there."

Ron suppressed a grin.

"Strange things happened around Hermione her whole life. One time, when she was two, she threw such a tantrum that every dish in the house broke, all at the same time without anyone so much as breathing on them."

This time Ron did laugh. "Ginny did that once. I think she was three though."

Mr. Granger nodded and had another swallow of ale. "I suppose your parents took it in their stride. Scared the hell out of us."

Ron nodded sympathetically. "Actually, with us, it's kind of a happy moment in a weird way. Up until that point, my parents didn't know if Ginny was magical or if she was a Squib."

Mr. Granger looked at him. "Squib?"

"Muggle child born to magical parents." Ron said uncomfortably.

"I suppose that's pretty disturbing to you lot."

"Well," Ron said, thoughtfully. "It's just, you know, the kid won't really be part of the magical world. Most Squibs end up living among Muggles, which kind of separates a fam…" He suddenly realized what he was saying.

Mr. Granger finished his ale. "Let's go back."


	4. Little Things You Show

When Ron and Mr. Granger arrived back at the house, they found Hermione and her mother in the back garden discussing late summer planting plans.

Mr. Granger walked over to Hermione, hugged her, and kissed her forehead. "It's good to have you home," he said. "I have some work I need to finish. I'll be in my study for a while."

That seemed to be some kind of code between the Grangers and Mrs. Granger followed him inside.

Hermione cut her eyes at Ron. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" Ron said, looking around the garden, which was neatly planted in symmetrical beds, nothing like the haphazard garden at the Burrow.

"I mean, what did you two talk about? Dad seems upset."

Ron pushed at the grass with the toe of his trainer. "He explained cricket."

Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "All you talked about was cricket?"

Ron shrugged. "Sure."

Hermione glared at him. "You're a terrible liar, Ron."

He frowned at her. "Well, apparently, so are you."

"What?"

"Last summer, after the fight at the ministry, you lied to them about your injuries."

"Of course, I lied. What would you have had me do, tell him the truth? Oh, I followed a group of friends on a dangerous mission to fight a bunch of Death Eaters. I knew it was a bad idea, and said so, but I went anyway out of a sense of loyalty, and because I thought they'd need me. Is that what I should have said?"

"Maybe," Ron said stubbornly.

"That would have pretty much guaranteed I never set foot in Hogwarts again."

"But Hermione, they know you lied."

She shook her head. "But they don't know the truth and that's more important."

"So what did you tell them?"

"I told them I was performing a particularly complicated bit of magic and it backfired on me. That's plausible. It happens. It happened to me with the Polyjuice potion."

"He's reading **The Daily Prophet** now," Ron said.

"What? That's impossible."

"No, it's not. Dumbledore arranged it for him. He knows a lot more about what's going on in our world than you think he does. He knows about Harry and you-know-who. He knows we're involved."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. She stumbled over to a garden bench and sat down heavily. "Why would Dumbledore let him get the paper?"

Ron sat next to her. "Maybe he threatened to take you out of school if he couldn't find out what was going on."

Hermione looked pained. "He must be worried sick."

Ron nodded. "Yeah."

She rested her forehead against his shoulder. "This is awful."

He kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair. He wondered if he should bring up the other things her father said. One thing in particular weighed heavily on his mind. He decided then and there that he didn't want to have the kind of relationship with Hermione that her parents had. He didn't want to keep quiet and not say things to spare her feelings. What was the point of having someone if you couldn't share everything with her? "Hermione," he said softly. "Your Dad thinks you've come home for a drink before the war. Is that why we're here? Is this visit because you think it might be your last chance?"

When she looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes. She wiped at them with her fingertips. "Not entirely," was her raspy response.

"But partly?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

He cupped her face and kissed her mouth gently. "We're going to be fine."

She nodded but more tears flowed down her cheeks.

Ron pulled her to him and let her cry quietly against his chest. He felt a lump forming in his own throat but swallowed it back. It wouldn't do for him to start blubbering too.

xxx

They stayed in the garden for a long time before going back inside. Hermione went to the loo to wash her face and perform a charm, so her parents wouldn't see she'd been crying. Ron wandered into the kitchen. Mrs. Granger was preparing dinner. Ron was fascinated with all the things she did without magic. It took so long. His stomach growled.

Hermione came in a few minutes later looking refreshed. "You need some help, Mum?"

"If you want to make a salad, that would be nice."

Ron was amused to see that Hermione made it the Muggle way. He wondered if she was embarrassed to use magic in front of her parents, or if it was just her habit not to do it at home.

xxx

Dinner turned out to be a somber affair. The baked chicken and salad were good, and Ron was pleased that he and Hermione were served wine like adults, but the conversation, or lack there of, was dismal. Ron finally couldn't stand the melancholy silence of his dinner companions anymore, and took it upon himself to be the evening's entertainment. He regaled the Grangers with every funny story he knew from school with special emphasis on anything that highlighted Hermione's talents.

After dinner, they retired to the living room to watch telly, but Ron was more interested in how it worked than what was on, and he and Mr. Granger talked for a long time about electricity and how it made pictures on the screen. Mrs. Granger retired early.

When Ron finally seemed to grasp the general concept, it was after ten o'clock. Mr. Granger stood and stretched. "Ron, I'm a dentist, not an electrical engineer. I'm afraid I've tapped all my resources on the subject."

Ron nodded. "It's really complicated."

"That it is, son, that it is." He yawned. "Well, I'm off to bed." He bent over and kissed the top of Hermione's head. "Goodnight, darling."

"Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, Mr. Granger," Ron added. He looked over at Hermione from where he was sitting on the floor at the back of the television. She was curled up on the loveseat with her feet tucked under her. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid but untamed tendrils framed her face and caught the light from the lamp. He smiled at her.

"What?"

"You're beautiful," he said.

Her cheeks went pink. "Ron."

"You are," he said and went to sit next to her. There was a small blanket covering her lap and Ron pulled some over on to him. "Why is it so bloody cold in this house? I know you said it was drafty, but in the middle of summer?"

Hermione laughed. "My parents have air-conditioning."

"Air-what?"

"Air-conditioning. It's electrical and pumps cool air through the house. Dad used to work in India and now he can't stand being hot."

"You know," Ron said. "I'm starting to think my Dad might be right about Muggles. It's genius the way they get on without magic."

"You're not going to start collecting plugs now, are you?"

Ron slid his hands around her waist and tickled her sides. "Would that bother you?"

Hermione giggled and squirmed in his grasp. "No. It'd be really easy to shop for you then. I'd get you loads of plugs for every holiday."

He continued tickling her. "I could collect all sorts of Muggle things." They wrestled until he wound up on top of her. Suddenly, the mood shifted and he leaned down and kissed her.

She opened her mouth to him, but as he slid his hands under her shirt, she stopped him. She pulled away from the kiss. "Let's not do this here."

Ron sat up and ran a hand down his face. "You're right. Sorry."

"I think it's time we turn in," Hermione said standing.

xxx

Ron followed her upstairs, kicking himself for losing control in her parents' house. What was he thinking? He opened the door to his room and watched longingly as Hermione went into hers. Then he stumbled around in the dark looking for the lights. He'd seen her flip a switch in the hallway to make the lights come on, but he couldn't seem to find one of those on the wall in his room. He didn't want to look like a fool and ask Hermione, but where was the damn thing? He pulled out his wand. "Lumos," he said and began looking for the switch. He saw a lamp next to his bed and went to examine it. _Now how does this work?_ he wondered. He pressed the base and pushed the shade. Nothing. He saw a little black bar below the bulb and pushed that in and was delighted when the light popped on.

"Hmph," Ron muttered. "I could be a Muggle." He changed into his pajamas and got into bed, but he wasn't sleepy. It seemed inappropriate to have a wank in Hermione's parents' house, so he looked through the nightstand for something to read. There was a stack of books. Unfortunately, most of them were dental texts. He found one called **Mr. Midshipman Hornblower** , which seemed pretty good. At least it wasn't about teeth.

He had just finished the first chapter when there was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," Ron called.

Hermione came in carrying a blanket. She was wearing a short, white, cotton gown that showed a lot of leg. Ron grinned.

"I thought you might get cold tonight, so I brought you an extra blanket."

"Thanks," Ron said, setting the book on the nightstand.

"What are you reading?" Hermione asked, setting the blanket on the foot of the bed and reaching for the book.

Ron could feel his breathing hitch as she walked toward him. The light from the lamp made the fabric of her gown more sheer and he could see her breasts outlined rather clearly. She wasn't wearing a bra. _Of course, she's not wearing a bra_ , he thought, _she was on her way to bed and thought to bring you a blanket so you don't freeze your bollocks off. She's not here for a snog._

"Hornblower?" Hermione commented as she flipped through the book. "Dad loves these."

"Seems pretty good so far," Ron said, folding his hands across his lap to hide the growing evidence of his arousal.

Hermione set the book back down and walked to the door.

"Goodnight, then," Ron said and wondered just how inappropriate it would be to have a wank after all.

Hermione surprised him by shutting the door and turning back around. "Actually," she said, without looking at him. "I was wondering if you'd mind if I slept here."


	5. Mysteries Without Any Clues

_She couldn't have just said that_ , Ron thought.

Hermione stood awkwardly at the door waiting for a reply.

_Oh, shit, she did._ "Uh, yeah," Ron said, scooting over and folding the blankets back for her.

Hermione walked quickly to the bed and slid in beside him. Ron pulled the covers back over them and turned on his side to face her. "But, what about your parents?"

"They won't come up here."

"How do you know? I mean my parents-"

"My parents aren't like your parents. Besides, they think we're doing this anyway." She snuggled closer to him, grazing him with her hip.

He hissed and jerked against her. "Fuck me," the words slipped out before he could stop them. To his delight Hermione didn't get angry.

"That's the idea," she said softly.

That did it. All his ideas for arguments and the fear of her father killing him for deflowering his daughter, all slipped away as he growled and rolled over on top of her. Something primal in him had been released by her words, but instead of trying to rein it in, he let go of the leash.

xxx

Hermione started to think she'd gone about this all wrong. First of all, Ron suddenly seemed bigger than he ever had before. He was simply everywhere at once. His mouth was plundering hers and his hands were already covering her breasts. She was regretting coming in here in a gown and nothing else. Other clothes, knickers at least, would have helped. She'd left them off thinking it would be awkward to remove them but at least it would have slowed him down. He seemed like a man possessed. She'd never seen him like this. She could hardly think what to do. It wasn't like she wanted to stop, it was just that she hardly had time to react to one thing before he'd moved on to the next. Before she knew it, they were both naked, but there wasn't time to enjoy just that before his mouth was on her breast. He'd moved one of his legs between hers and the friction of it against her was dizzying.

"Ron," she said, intending to ask him to slow down. But he covered her mouth with his and kissed her deeply and moved over to the side, which gave her some relief until she realized he'd done that so he could move a hand between her legs. He hadn't done that before. She jerked as he slid a finger into her. _Wait a minute!_ She wanted to shout, but his mouth still covered hers. She went to push against him to try and get his attention, but he moved at the same time so the gesture was lost. He'd moved his hand and shifted on top of her again, this time poised at her entrance. Finally, their height difference worked in her favor; he couldn't kiss her in this position.

"Ron, please," she hissed. But he misinterpreted what she was trying to say and sank into her.

Hermione felt a sharp tear and it was her cry of pain that finally got his attention. He looked down at her, an expression of sheer terror crossing his face. "Hermione?" he said and jerked once. She could feel him spill into her. He collapsed across her chest and she could feel his heart pounding against her breast. He pulled himself together quickly and moved off of her. She whimpered as he pulled out. The moment he was off of her, she shot out of bed and went running to the loo, thankful that there was one connected to the room.

Ron watched her bolt into the bathroom and felt like throwing up. What had he done? She was never going to speak to him again much less ever let him touch her. Harry was going to kill him, that's assuming she didn't tell Mr. Granger, who would certainly kill him first. Ginny would, of course, want to kill him; well the whole family would really. They all loved Hermione. _Shit, shit, shit. I'm going to lose her. I've got to do something, say something._ He sat up and reached for his pants under the covers, but promptly forgot about them as he saw, to his horror, that there were a couple of drops of blood on the sheets. He looked down and there was a slight smear of blood on him as well. Panic overtook him. He began knocking on the bathroom door. He wanted to pound on it, but didn't want to wake the Grangers.

"Hermione? Are you alright?"

xXx

Hermione was sitting on the toilet trying to pull herself together. _This is what you get for throwing yourself at him like some slag. Idiot. At least, you had sense enough to cast the contraception charm before you came to his room, because that dolt certainly didn't think of it, did he? No wonder, there are so many Weasleys. Don't cry,_ she chastised herself. _Don't cry, be a big girl now, you asked for this. You came on to him and he acted like a horny git, big surprise._ She trembled in the cold air and deeply regretted not grabbing her nightgown before running to the loo.

Ron was knocking on the door and asking if she was alright.

"I'll be out in a minute." She looked around and realized she didn't have her wand either. _Well, that's just great, no wand, no cleaning charm._ She cleaned up as best she could with tissues, flushed the toilet, washed her face and went to open the door. She really didn't want to walk into that room naked. The pain between her legs had diminished to a dull soreness, but her emotions felt very raw, some clothing, even a towel would have been nice, but it was a tiny bathroom, so the towels were kept in the main room in a drawer. She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and opened the door. She was surprised to see Ron, still naked, sitting on the side of the bed with his head in his hands. When he looked up at her, she could see he'd been crying.

"There's blood on the sheets," he said in a rasp whisper.

Hermione reached for her gown and pulled it on over her head. "Let me get my wand, I'll clean that up."

Ron grabbed her hand. "I don't care about the sheets, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Hermione answered tightly.

"But there's blood—"

"Some girls bleed the first time. It's just something that happens." _Especially when some randy git pounds into you before you're ready_ , she added in her head. She pulled her hand away and walked back to her room for her wand. Once there she did a cleaning charm on herself and pulled on a pair of knickers and a dressing gown.

Ron was still sitting naked on the side of the bed when she got back. She performed a cleaning charm on the sheets and then without asking, one on him as well. He wouldn't look at her. "Well, then," she said. "I guess I'll go to bed now." She turned to leave.

"Hermione?" Ron said.

She looked back at him.

"You said you'd sleep here tonight."

She dropped her eyes and shook her head.

"Please," he said. "That was awful."

She looked up at him her eyes widening. _What? I went through that and he didn't even like it?_ She couldn't look at him anymore.

"Not you," Ron amended. "You were, you are, well, you're just everything. I love you so much and now I've ruined it."

Hermione looked up on the word "love." He'd never said that before.

"Let me have another go. I can do better," he continued.

Hermione sighed. _Oh, he just wants another go._ "I think I've had enough for tonight."

"No, please," Ron pleaded. "That came out wrong. I don't mean another go for me. I meant one just for you, a proper time. I did it all wrong, all of it. Please, let me have another chance. Let me show you how much I love you, come to bed, please. Just let me hold you if nothing else. Please."

Hermione pressed her hands against her face. He was so earnest. "Only if you put your pants back on," she said slowly.

"Course," he said pulling them on. "Pajama bottoms too?"

Hermione suppressed a smile. "That won't be necessary."

Ron smiled at her and got into bed, holding the covers up for her to follow. She took a deep breath, dropped the dressing gown and got in next to him. She rested her face against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Tell me what you want," he whispered.


	6. I Think It's Beginning to Rain

Hermione was shocked at her body's response to Ron's words. She'd intended to just let him hold her as she fell asleep. Lying in his arms was good, and things before had gone so badly, she really wasn't in a rush for a repeat, but her body apparently had different ideas. Desire began to stir. She sighed, trying to think what to say. "Could you just kiss me?" she whispered, embarrassed to be asking.

Ron nodded. "I can do that." He licked his lips before cupping her face in his hand. His thumb grazed her earlobe sending shivers down her spine. He brushed his lips against hers with such gentleness it was as if he was afraid a firmer kiss might bruise her. The kiss was warm and chaste; she eventually deepened it. He seemed intent on not pushing her in any way. They kissed for a long time. He kept one hand on her face and the other on her waist. She was aching for his hands to move, but she kept waiting. Finally, in frustration, she moved the hand on her waist up to her breast. She trembled when his thumb grazed her nipple.

"You alright?" he whispered, stilling his hand.

"Yes."

He tugged the hem of her gown. "You want me to take this off?"

She could feel herself blush as she whispered, "Yes."

The cool air of the room felt good against her heated flesh as Ron resumed kissing her. His hands caressed her breasts until the ache between her legs seemed unbearable.

"I want to kiss you all over," he said in her ear. "Would that be all right?"

Hermione had lost all language ability, so she could only nod. He started on her neck, giving it such loving attention with his lips and tongue, she thought she might melt right into the bed. By the time his lips touched her breasts, she was pretty sure she had a small orgasm just from that. She jerked against him and he looked up at her. He smiled and kissed her bellybutton, pulled the covers over his head and moved down. If she had reservations, it was too late. He began with soft kisses on her hips and thighs; everywhere but where she needed him to be. She waited for him to move to the center, but he waited as well. Finally, realizing he wasn't going to do it for her, she pulled off her knickers and threw them across the room and he descended. The next few minutes swirled in a haze of desire and need fueled by the actions of his tongue. She found herself panting and uttering short nonsense syllables. When he slid in the first finger, her back arched off the bed, and he stopped everything.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," she panted. "Please, please don't stop."

He resumed and slid in a second finger while at the same time his other hand came up to stroke her breast. And the world stopped. Hermione would consider later that this must be why the French referred to orgasm as 'le petite mort.' In the moment, she simply rode the wave and shuddered through aftershocks. Ron came out from under the covers and lay beside her. Scandalously, he licked his fingers as he watched her come down.

She knew she should be embarrassed to lay there naked in front of him, flushed and completely relaxed, but she couldn't bring herself to even pull the sheet up until her flesh finally goose pimpled from the chill and she trembled from cold instead of passion. Ron reached over and pulled his wand off the nightstand and did a cleansing charm on both of them. Hermione stretched lazily and reached for her nightgown.

"I'll be right back," she told Ron, pulling the gown over her head as she headed for the loo.

When she came back, Ron was straightening the sheets and blankets. She couldn't help noticing how tented his shorts were.

"Hermione," he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

She stood between his legs and he took her hands. "The next time we do this," he said, his voice very serious. "I promise we'll do it in the right order, you first, then me, and I'll go slow getting inside. I don't know what happened tonight, I just got so excited-"

"It was my fault," Hermione said, kneeling in front of him. "I came on too strong."

"No," Ron said. "No, not at all, I just wasn't expecting-I'm so sorry."

Hermione shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Let's forget that ever happened, and we'll start with the second time as our first time."

Ron grinned. "Liked that better, did you?"

Hermione could feel her face reddening, but she answered honestly. "Much."

"I really do love you," he said, his blue eyes serious again.

"I love you too," she said, pushing his fringe back from his eyes.

He leaned down and kissed her. She let her hands trail down his chest and stomach to the thin line of hair that disappeared into his pants.

She slipped her hand through the front flap and wrapped it around him. He broke the kiss gulping for air. She moved her hand, tracing his shape, watching him as she touched him. She tugged at the hem of his pants with her other hand. "Mind if I take these off?" she asked with a smile.

"Go ahead," his voice cracked like it hadn't done in ages. He stood to make it easier to get his pants off. When he sat back down she took him in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the tip and made sure to keep her teeth out of the way. Periodically, she looked up through a curtain of hair to see what he liked. His head was thrown back and his fists were clenched tight holding on to the sheets.

"Hermione, stop," he hissed. "Or I'm going to—"

She looked up at him again, but this time, he was looking down at her. Holding eye contact, she took him deeper. He told her later how sexy it was that she swallowed. She didn't mention it was either that or choke.

He sat back heavily on the bed. She sat next to him and curled her fingers through his.

"I didn't mean for you to do that," he said softly.

She looked at him.

"It was brilliant, much-he almost said 'much better than Lavender' but caught himself-more than I expected. I just wanted this time to be about you."

"We're not counting the first time, remember? Besides, I couldn't very well leave you in that state."

"You could have."

"But I didn't want to."

Ron leaned over and kissed her cheek. Then he turned her hand over in his and kissed the back of it. "You really are amazing. How did I get to be so lucky?"

"I suppose it was fated, really," Hermione said, smiling.

"How so?"

"You're the first boy I ever saw use his wand."

Ron laughed. "You're a bad girl."

Hermione grinned. "I don't know what you mean."


	7. Scotch Eggs

Hermione woke promptly at six o'clock, just as she had most of her life. She sat up in bed. Ron was sprawled out on his back, softly snoring. She smiled. Waking up next to him was brilliant. She took a moment just to watch him before slipping out of bed.

"Hey," Ron said sleepily as she was pulling on her dressing gown. "Where're you off to?"

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm going to have breakfast with my Dad."

"What?" Ron said, blinking. "But it's so bloody early."

"That's the point," she said. "He and I are early risers. It's a bit of tradition to let Mum have a lie-in on Saturdays, while we go down to the pub and have Scotch eggs."

"You don't eat Scotch eggs."

"I do when I'm home, and it's Saturday, and I'm with my Dad."

Ron scrubbed a hand down his face. "But, I'll miss you," he pouted.

Hermione leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I'll be back."

She showered in her own room, cast several drying charms on her hair and was dressed and downstairs by six-thirty. Her father was drinking a cup of tea and reading the paper in the kitchen. Hermione was relieved to see it was the **Times** and not the **Prophet**.

"Hermione?" he said as she walked into the kitchen. There was a note of surprise in his voice.

"Morning, Dad. Fancy a Scotch egg?"

He folded the paper and set it on the table. "I was just thinking that very thing."

"To the pub then?"

"I'll follow you."

They were half way to the pub before her father said, "I guess I was expecting you to want to eat breakfast with your young man."

Hermione wrapped her arm around his. "I eat breakfast with Ron all the time. Today, I wanted to eat breakfast with you."

He smiled at her and patted the hand that was on his arm.

Despite the fine mood on the walk to the pub, breakfast was painfully quiet. Without Ron there to break the silence, Hermione finally yielded and broke it herself. "So, Ron tells me you're reading **The Daily Prophet**."

Her father looked up from his egg. "For some time now, yes."

"I wish you weren't doing that, Dad. They don't have the best reputation for getting the news right."

"Even flawed news is better than no news at all. It's not like I can count on you to tell me what's going on," he said with a slight edge to his voice.

Hermione set down her fork. "I just don't want you to worry."

Her father frowned at her sternly. "It's your mother we try not to worry, not me. You always used to talk to me. You used to send such lovely long letters from school, but no more. When we get a letter now, it's written on what could best be described as a scrap, just a note really, with nothing of importance in it."

"I'm sorry, Dad." The uncomfortable silence descended again. She pushed the greasy sausage around on her plate and let out a frustrated sigh. Her father's stony silence continued. "Fine," she relented. "What is it you want to know?"

"What really happened to you at the end of last term?"

Hermione took a deep breath. She knew that was what he would ask. "A man named Dolohov, a Death Eater, cursed me in a battle at the Ministry of Magic." She took a drink of water. "Only I had hit him with a silencing charm, so the curse didn't have its full effect. Thankfully, he never mastered nonverbal spell casting."

"So, it could have been worse."

She nodded. "I'm sorry for not telling you, but I was afraid you wouldn't let me go back if you knew the truth." She bit at her bottom lip waiting for his response.

Finally, he said, "Quite right." He was quiet for a moment and jabbed angrily at his egg with his fork. Finally, he set it down and looked up at her again. "And Ron? How long have you two been a couple?"

"Since the end of the term." Hermione closed her eyes, knowing what was coming next.

"Your mother tells me you're sleeping with him?" There was no accusation in his voice, just resignation.

"Yes," she said without shame.

"And you're being careful?"

"Of course."

Her father nodded at her soberly. "Of course." He shook his head. "When did you grow up so, Hermione?"

She covered his hand with hers. "Pretty much when you put me on that train."

Her father let out a long sigh. "I should never have consented to that."

"Don't be ridiculous. You couldn't have kept me here. I don't belong here. Besides, you know what Dumbledore said was true: raw, untrained magic is dangerous. Look what happened to poor Penny, and she was only teasing me about my hair."

Her father rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his face with his hand. "I know, but still, what you're doing now seems so dangerous."

She leaned in closer to him. "But I'm not alone. I have good friends. I know good people. We'll win in the end. I know we will."

"Need you be so directly involved?"

"Weren't you the one who gave me Camus to read? Didn't he say 'in such a world of conflict, a world of victims and executioners, it is the job of thinking people, not to be on the side of the executioners'?"

Her father sighed and patted her cheek. "What a mind you have my dear, what a mind."

She held his hand against her cheek. "You and Mum have given me so much. It's my time to give back now. I have to do what I can to protect my world and yours."

Her father's eyes held volumes of sadness, but he kissed her hand. "Let's go home."


	8. What Passes for Normal These Days

Her mother was frying eggs and bacon when Hermione and her father got home. Ron was sitting at the island in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea and trying to explain Quidditch.

"And the position you play is what again?"

"Keeper," Hermione answered from the door. "And he's quite good."

"Not really," Ron said, blushing.

Hermione put her hands on his shoulders. "He's being modest."

"And this is all played on broomsticks?" her mother asked as she set a plate of food in front of Ron.

"Yeah," Ron said. "It's brilliant, really exciting."

Mrs. Granger smiled. "Do you play dear?" she asked Hermione.

Hermione shook her head. "No. I hate flying."

"Really?" her father asked. "I think it sounds fun."

"I'm rubbish at it," Hermione said. "Apparating was the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Apparating's much harder, though," Ron said around a mouthful of egg.

"Not really, once you get the hang of it," Hermione said.

Ron rolled his eyes. "You just say that because you got your license first time out."

"You have to have a license?" her father asked. "Like driving?"

"Oh, yeah, not just anyone can Apparate. It takes loads of training and then they test you," Ron said.

"But you don't have your license?" her mother asked him.

"He almost got it," Hermione said in Ron's defense. "He only left part of his eyebrow behind. I thought it rather petty that they counted that against him."

"Left it behind?" her father said.

"Yeah," Ron said. "When you Apparate you really have to concentrate on getting all of you from one place to another. Loads of witches and wizards can't do it."

Her father looked at Hermione. "You can just disappear from one place and appear in another?"

Hermione nodded.

Her mother looked surprised. "Do show us, dear."

Hermione pulled out her wand. "Alright then," she said, and with a pop, she disappeared. A moment later she was in the front hall.

Her parents were wide-eyed at her reappearance.

"I say," her father said in a hushed voice. "That is brilliant."

"I don't understand. Why did you come in a cab then?" her mother asked.

"I could have Apparated here, but Ron doesn't have his license yet. He did side-along apparition with his father to the train station though."

"Side-along?"

"It's when one person Apparates two people," Ron answered.

"Couldn't you have done that with Ron then?" her father asked.

Hermione laughed. "I'm not experienced enough for that yet. It's much more difficult."

"Well, why didn't your father bring you right here?" Mrs. Granger asked. "We'd love to see him."

"Dad's never been here before. It's really hard to Apparate to somewhere you've never been and even harder with a side-along," Ron explained.

Her father nodded. "I see." 

"Well, what are you two planning today?" her mother asked.

"I thought I'd take Ron around London a bit, show him some of the sites."

"That sounds good," her father said. "Always fun to explore the city."

xXx

Ron and Hermione spent the day taking the Underground to various famous places. After a particularly vivid tour of the Tower of London, Ron declared that they needed a break.

"Who knew Muggle history was so bloodthirsty?" he said as they walked toward a street vendor.

Hermione shrugged. "No worse than the Goblin Wars."

"Really?"

"If you hadn't slept through History of Magic every time, you'd know that."

"Don't be daft. It's a miracle you managed to stay awake while Binns droned on."

Hermione grimaced. "I suppose he is a bit monotonous."

He laughed. "A bit? Hermione, he actually bored himself to death." 

She smiled in spite of herself. "All right, all right." She turned to the vendor. "Two bottles of water, please."

Ron reached into his pocket.

Hermione stilled his hand. "They don't take galleons here," she whispered.

"I know that," he said affronted. "I've got Muggle money. Dad gave it to me." He pulled out a rather ratty five pound note and paid the vendor.

"Well, look at you," Hermione said, amusement clear in her voice. "Blending."

Ron opened a bottle of water and handed it to her. "Oh, I'm a man of the world, I am."

Hermione laughed as they walked back to the Underground.

xxx

When they got back to the Granger's house the tension between Hermione's parents was palpable.

"We're going to take dinner at the club tonight, dear," Mrs. Granger said. She was sitting in the living room by herself, knitting. They could see Mr. Granger was in the library smoking a cigarette and looking at a book.

"That sounds good," Hermione said. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, dear," her mother assured her.

"We'll just freshen up and change for dinner then," Hermione said, taking Ron's arm and leading him from the room. "Well, this is bad," she said as they walked up the stairs to their rooms.

"What's going on?" Ron asked.

"It's clear they've had a row."

"Well, yeah, but what do you suppose it's about?" Ron asked, hoping desperately that it didn't have anything to do with him.

"I don't know. They don't really argue that often." She walked into her room and Ron followed. "Actually, I've only ever known them to argue about one thing."

"What's that?" Ron asked, sitting on the edge of Hermione's desk.

Some of the color left her face. "Me. They used to fight all the time about what to do about me before we found out I was a witch."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

Hermione cleared her throat, "You know, whether to take me out of this school and put me in that one, whether to tell the doctor about things that happened, whether to consult a psychologist, that sort of thing."

"You went to school before Hogwarts?"

"Several," Hermione answered. "It's not like in the wizarding world where children are taught at home. Most Muggle children go to school around four or five."

"Really? Amazing. No wonder they're so clever. Still, it doesn't have to be about you," Ron said without much conviction. "It could be anything. It could be teeth. They're loads of books about teeth in this house. There must be some sticking points."

Hermione smiled. "Somehow, I don't think that's it."

Ron cleared his throat. "You don't suppose they know about last night, do you?"

Hermione sighed. "I told you, I'm sure they assume we were together last night."

"Right," Ron said, "but knowing and liking are two different things. Maybe, your Dad say, doesn't want us on the same floor and maybe your Mum sees it different."

"Maybe, but I doubt that's it. They both took the news pretty well."

"How do you mean?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, Mum seemed fine when I told her I knew how to cast a contraception charm, and Dad seemed fine when I told him we were sleeping together."

Ron's eyes widened. "You told your Dad we're sleeping together? Are you mad?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He asked me. I wasn't going to lie."

"About this you choose to be truthful? You're completely mental, you know that?"

"I don't know why this bothers you so much."

He shook his head. "It bothers me because I've got to look your father in the eye knowing he knows that I…hang on…" He stood suddenly, his face pale. "Hermione, you didn't cast a contraception charm last night." 

Hermione looked thoughtful. "You know, I think you're right. I hope I'm not pregnant." Ron completely missed the wicked gleam in her eye.

He dropped on his knees in front of her. "Pregnant," he whispered. He looked at the floor for a moment. Hermione waited for the inevitable panic. Instead, he took her hands in his. "That's alright," he said, looking up at her. "It's fine. I've got several O.W.L.s. I can get a job. We'll get married, sooner rather than later. No one has to know this wasn't planned. We'll have to live with Mum and Dad for a while until I've got enough for a flat. Maybe I can work for Fred and George…I suppose we should tell your folks we're getting married while we're here."

Hermione was so touched by his response to her joke that she couldn't play it out anymore. "Ron, I'm not pregnant."

"Oh, Hermione," he said, looking up at her. "Of course, you are. I'm a Weasley, hundreds of years of pure blood wizards, all renowned for their virility."

Hermione suppressed a grin. "Ron, I cast the charm. I cast it before I went to your room."

"You did?" He sighed. "Oh, that's great. I didn't know how I was going to explain to Harry that we couldn't help him, because you were pregnant, and I had to get a job."

Hermione was stunned. That's what he was worried about? Not the prospect of marriage and fatherhood, but letting Harry down. He really was a wonderful man. "Oh, Ron," she said and threw her arms around him. "I wouldn't have teased you, if I'd known you be so sweet about it."

He hugged her back fiercely. "One day," he said seriously.

Hermione was shocked at his response. She felt in no way ready for those sorts of things. "All in good time," she said vaguely. "I think we should probably get ready."

Ron headed back to his room to shower and change. Hermione went into her own bathroom. As she stood in the shower, she thought about everything that had happened over the last few weeks. When she was toweling off, she looked in the mirror and was surprised to see she didn't look any different. She felt so different on the inside, it seemed like it should be more apparent on the outside. Several drying charms and two straightening charms later, her hair was piled into a bun. The day was was warm, and she wanted her hair up and off her neck. She pulled on a green gingham skirt and a white T-shirt and sandals and walked out into the hall.

Ron was sitting at the top of the stairs waiting for her. He was wearing khaki trousers and a blue camp shirt and his trainers. His hair was still damp.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked as she walked up behind him.

"I'm a little nervous about hanging about with your folks now that I know they know."

Hermione sighed. "Buck up, it's not as bad as all that."

"Well, I suppose it's better than a slap in the face with a wet kipper, but only just."

He slipped a finger under the hem of her skirt and looked up.

"Ron!" She pushed his hand away.

"What?" he said, defensively. "You've been a bit dodgy with the knickers lately. I thought I better check."

Her face flushed crimson. She brushed past him roughly and hurried downstairs.

He laughed softly to himself as he followed her. _That'll teach you to make pregnancy jokes._


	9. The Club

The drive to club was a lot more interesting and a lot less frightening than the cab ride had been. Mr. Granger was a much more careful driver. He and Ron talked about how an internal combustion engine worked as they approached the entrance to the club. A woman was standing just outside with two, tall, slender, white dogs on leashes.

"Ooh, borzois," Hermione said. "Do you mind if I pet them?"

"Go ahead," the woman answered. "They're very egotistical, they never get enough attention."

Ron and Hermione both ran their hands across the dog's shaggy backs.

"Now, those were proper dogs," Ron said as they walked into the club. "Why can't Hagrid have something nice like that instead of slobbery old Fang or that nightmare Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"Giant three-headed dog we had a run in with several years back," Hermione said quietly.

Her mother looked stricken and opened her mouth to say something.

"Don't ask, Mum. Believe me, you don't want to know." Hermione glared at Ron.

The host showed them to a table.

"Our game keeper has the worst taste in pets," Ron continued despite Hermione's persistent glare. "I don't think he could love an animal that wouldn't kill him as soon as look at him."

Hermione frowned. "That's not true. Fang's quite sweet."

"I thought you said he had three heads?" Hermione's father whispered.

"No, that's Fluffy," Ron said, reaching for a roll from a basket in the center of the table. "Fang's a regular boar hound but he drools all the time, and he's a ruddy coward."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked.

"Does acromantula mean anything to you?" Ron asked.

" Acromantula?" Mr. Granger said.

"Don't ask," Ron and Hermione said at the same time.

"Well, alright then," Mrs. Granger said with false cheer. "Let's see what's on the menu for tonight, shall we?"

After they had placed their orders, Hermione stood. "I should go wash my hands."

Ron looked at his own hands. He'd forgotten about petting the dogs. "I should wash mine as well."

They headed off behind the bar to the washrooms. Ron was having problems figuring out the faucets though. Hermione's parents had regular sinks, but the ones in this bathroom didn't appear to have anything to turn the water on. He stood for some time looking at them before a man came out of one of the stalls, stuck his hands under the tap and the water magically came on. Ron was flabbergasted. _Who would charm the faucets in a Muggle club? That can't be legal._ He stuck his hands under the faucet and sure enough, the water charm worked again. As he walked out of the washroom, trying to think of how to get a message to his father about this misuse of a Muggle artifact, he saw Hermione talking to a tall, ginger bloke, who held a pint of ale in one hand, and was touching Hermione's arm with the other. Ron quickened his pace and cleared his throat as he approached.

He couldn't decide if Hermione looked more relieved or nervous at his arrival.

"Ron," she said. "This is Jason Hayes, the American, I told you about."

"Right," Ron said, trying not to picture Hermione in a bathing suit perched on this git's shoulders. Of course, he couldn't stop picturing it once he'd started. From there it wasn't difficult to picture her naked and to turn this git around and…" Ron gritted his teeth. _Hang on_ , he thought, _who shagged her last night? Who had her squirming in ecstasy? Me, not him, me. Sod him, poor bastard._ Ron stuck out his hand. "Ron Weasley. You taught her how to play that water game."

"Oh, yeah," Jason laughed. "Chicken."

"Brilliant," Ron said. "We've had loads of fun playing it this summer."

Jason nodded. "Well, I should be getting back. Hermione, it was great seeing you and nice meeting you, Ron."

"You as well," Hermione smiled.

"Yeah," Ron added.

They walked back to her parents' table.

"Thank you for that," Hermione said.

"For what?"

"For not making a scene. For a moment there, you looked really angry."

"No, not me," Ron lied. "I was only shocked because someone's bewitched the sink in the men's room."

"What?" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yeah, it's got a water charm, the water comes out when you stick your hands under the tap."

Hermione giggled.

"What? I'm serious."

"It's not a charm, it's a sensor."

"A what?" Ron asked.

Hermione smiled. "It's an electrical device that senses motion."

"How does it do that?" Ron asked, intrigued.

Hermione shrugged. "Haven't a clue, but Dad might know."

Most of dinner was taken up with Mr. Granger's rudimentary explanation of sensor technology. Mrs. Granger seemed a thousand miles away, and even Hermione started to get bored.

It was still early when they left the club.

xxx

Back at home, Mr. Granger got a box of old junk from the garage and brought it into the library and spread it out on an oak library table for Ron to look at. Ron was fascinated with an old alarm clock. They took it apart and Mr. Granger began explaining how it worked. Hermione's mother went and got her knitting. Hermione tried for a moment to be interested in a broken clock but gave up and summoned her knitting and **The Book of Domestic Spell Work** from her bag upstairs. Her mother taught her several new stitches and Hermione taught them to her wand with the aid of the book. It was almost ten o'clock when Mrs. Granger called it a night. A few minutes later, Ron felt Hermione touch his back.

"I'm off to bed, as well," she said.

All manner of alarms went off in his head then, but he restrained himself for another polite half hour of talk with Mr. Granger before following her upstairs.

He took a hopeful peek in his room only to be disappointed. He changed into a clean T-shirt and pajama bottoms and walked down to Hermione's room to find the door open. She was in a baby blue nightshirt, sitting in bed with an enormous tome on her lap and books flying around the room.

"What are you doing?"

"I charmed my books to alphabetize themselves, then I decided to catch up on some light reading."

Ron walked over, dodging books as he went, and picked up the book. It must have weighed ten pounds. "Light reading?" He turned it over. " **Defensive Charms for the Deadly Foe**. Anything good?"

Hermione took the book back from him, marked her place, and set it aside. "The usual spells. Where have you been? I started to think you weren't going to come to bed at all."

"I didn't want to run after you like some randy git."

Hermione raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"I mean, I did, but I didn't fancy doing it in front of your father."

Hermione smiled. "So are you?"

"What's that?"

"A randy git?"

Ron leaned into her. "Almost always." She scooted over in the bed to make room for him. He pulled off his shirt and and then sat on the side of the bed to take off his socks. "You sure you want to stay in here?" he asked, looking around anxiously. "I don't fancy being knocked in the head by one of these bloody books."

"They're almost done." Hermione said as she ran her fingers along his arm. An involuntary shudder passed through him as she lightly touched the scars. "They're really sensitive aren't they?"

"Kind of," Ron said as his eyes fell to the neckline of her nightshirt, where he knew just beneath was a thin white line that ran diagonally across her chest between her breasts. "Isn't yours?"

Hermione pressed a hand to her chest. "Yes."

"You know what," Ron said, disturbed by the turn of the conversation. "I don't want to talk about scars. Actually, I don't want to talk at all."

Hermione looked up at him and smiled. "No? What could you possibly want to do?"


	10. The Clouds We Lay Upon

Ron kissed her by way of response. He took his time, touching his lips softly to hers, waiting for her to be the one to deepen the kiss. He was determined, dedicated, intent on making sure that this time was fantastic. Not that he'd felt his performance last time was bad, but still, practice makes perfect, and he was willing to work overtime to make sure that his first fiasco was driven to the deepest recesses of her memory. Besides, he really, really wanted to be back inside of her. Even though he knew he went about it all wrong, even though it only lasted for a few seconds, even though he'd hurt her in the process, he couldn't help it. The sensation of his body merged with hers had been the best feeling he'd ever experienced. He wanted to feel it again, and again, and again, ad infinitum.

He moved from her mouth to her neck all the while working his hands on a slow journey down her body. The only problem was his fellow traveler was impatient and painfully straining against his pants. "Damn," he groaned, rolling over on to his back.

Hermione looked over at him with languid eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Do you mind if I take these off?"

Hermione got up and stood by the bed. That hadn't been his intention at all. "I can leave them on," he said quickly.

"Come here, Ron." She knelt by the side of the bed.

"No," he protested softly, even as he moved over.

She put her hands on the waistband of his pajamas. "Let's have them," she said.

He lifted his hips. "But I want to be inside of you. I'll go slow, I promise."

Hermione smiled then bit her lip. "Alright, I just think it will be better for both of us if I do this first." She blushed. "Besides, it's not as though I don't like it."

"Are you sure? Because- _he almost said because Lavender didn't seem to care for it_ -because you don't have to."

She responded by taking him in her mouth and after that he couldn't remember why he'd suggested otherwise. He sank his hands into her hair, not to hold her in place, but just because he loved her hair. It was so soft and wild spread across his lap. The image of that alone was enough to make him come. How was it that Hermione, brainy, proper Hermione, could be on her knees in front of him, Ron Weasley. He wondered if she'd ever done that before. He resolved never to ask her. He honestly didn't want to know, and besides, she might ask him the same question in return. He was lying on his back with his legs dangling off the side of the bed staring at the ceiling of Hermione's bedroom, when he realized he was looking at pale green things stuck all over it.

Hermione pulled off her nightshirt and crawled next to him.

"What's that on your ceiling?"

She rolled onto her back and looked up. "Oh. Those are glow-in-the-dark stickers of stars my parents put up when I was really little. It's the major constellations."

"How do they work?"

Hermione reached over and flipped off the light. "They absorb light and then reflect it back."

"Cool," Ron said. On impulse he leaned over the side of the bed and pulled his wand from the pocket of his trousers. He pointed it at the ceiling and said a sing-song incantation that Hermione had never heard. Instantly, the ceiling went black like the night and the stickers went from pale green to the soft glow of real stars. "This is what my parents used to do to my bedroom ceiling." He looked over and realized the door to her bedroom was still open. He knew she said her parents wouldn't come up there, but he wasn't willing to risk it. He flicked his wand and the door closed with a soft click. He set his wand on the nightstand and turned back to Hermione. "Come here, you."

Her kiss surprised him with its smoky saltiness and he tried not to think about why. He couldn't decide if it was sexy or kind of gross or a bit of both. He decided not to care. Nearly naked Hermione in his arms superseded all other thoughts. He kissed her more passionately and moved his hand to cover her breast. She rolled her shoulders, which wasn't really the reaction he was going for.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's get under the covers. It's cold in here."

Ron noticed then that the room was chilly. "Yeah, sure." He moved off the bed and she got on her knees and pulled the covers back. "Better?" he asked, sliding in next to her.

"Much," she said, snuggling against him.

Ron was still thinking of the image of her on her knees. It reminded him of something, something good. "Oh, yeah," he said softly.

"What?" Hermione asked as she leaned over and kissed his chest.

"You want to do something different?"

Hermione looked up at him and blinked. Her hair was a mass of curls framing her face. "How different?" she asked warily.

"Just a little. Put your leg over here."

She did as he asked and straddled him.

"That's brilliant," he said, enjoying the view. It was just like a picture Fred and George once had until their mother found it when cleaning one day. "I like this," he said, but as he said it, Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "What are you doing?" he asked, putting his hands on her arms.

"I don't know. I feel really exposed like this."

"Exposed? But I've already seen you starkers."

"I know, but this is different."

Ron ran his fingers along the waistband of her knickers. "Well, yeah, you still have these on, don't you?" He let his thumb trail lower so that Hermione had to steady herself by putting one of her hands on his chest.

"Now, see," Ron said, moving her other arm. "That's lovely. You're lovely. If I was a bird, I'd go about with my top off all the time."

Hermione laughed. "I don't think so."

"I would," Ron insisted as he pulled her down for a kiss and reveled in the feel of her on top of him. He slid his hand down under the offending knickers and began pulling them down. She didn't resist, but ended up having to roll over beside him to really get them off. He slid over on top of her. On impulse, he ran his tongue down the thin scar between her breasts and her whole body trembled. He looked up at her. Her eyes were wide and very dark. "I'm sorry," Ron whispered. She shook her head and he continued to kiss his way down her body, keeping at her with his mouth and his fingers until she shuddered beneath him and cried his name. He wasn't aware that his name could be so sexy. He kissed her thigh and gave her a moment to pull herself together before going out from under the covers and lying beside her.

"Wow," she said, taking a deep breath. "I think that was even better than last night."

Ron grinned. "Actually," he said, more seriously. "I was hoping to do one more thing better than last night."

She looked at him and bit her bottom lip. "Yeah, okay."

He moved between her legs, but didn't press into her. Instead he kissed her breasts again, dancing across the scar with his tongue as he moved from one to the other. It wasn't long before she was squirming beneath him. He poised himself at her entrance and instantly felt the difference. This was a woman who was ready. He kicked himself again for his blunder last night and vowed not to repeat it. He looked down at her. "Alright?"

She bit her lip again, but nodded.

 _Okay_ , Ron thought, _slow, slow, slow._ He inched into her.

She took in a sharp breath and he stopped. She shifted her hips slightly and he slipped further in. She raised her knees and he settled deeper. Every muscle in his body screamed for him to push that last distance, but he waited. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she said softly. "You're heavy, though, hold on, I'm just going to…" She wrapped her legs around his hips and locked her ankles, driving him the rest of the way in. "Oh, that's better," she whispered against his shoulder. It was all he could do not to come right then, but he managed to hold back.

"So I can…"

"Oh, yes," Hermione hissed.

He pulled back and pushed in, stars exploding behind his eyelids as he did. "This is brilliant. Just brilliant." And it was, but only for a minute. He collapsed forward on to her and forgot that she had mentioned how heavy he was. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep inside her, wake up and do it again. Then he felt her hand pushing on his shoulder.

"Ron," she gasped.

He remembered himself and rolled off of her. She whimpered slightly and he looked up, suddenly awake. "You alright?"

She rolled over on her side to face him. She nodded. "Fine. Good even." She leaned over and picked up her wand and performed a cleaning charm on both of them.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Ron suddenly exclaimed, sitting bolt upright.

"What?"

"We forgot the contraception charm!"

Hermione laughed. "I cast it before you came upstairs."

"Oh," he sighed, falling back against the pillows. "No wonder, there are so many Weasleys, can't remember the bloody charm."

Hermione giggled and pulled her nightshirt back on. "It's so cold in here."

"Yeah," Ron said. "Hand me my pajamas. Your Dad is killing me with that cold air thing."

"Air-conditioning."

"Whatever. It's awful," he said, pulling his T-shirt over his head and his pajama bottoms on.

Hermione rolled toward him and rested her head against his chest.

"I always want to fall asleep like this," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"Me too," she murmured before dropping off.


	11. Raw Magic

Ron was startled awake from one of his favorite dreams (co-ed naked Quidditch) by the sound of Hermione screaming followed by shattering glass. His wand was in his hand before he'd fully woken and he shouted "Lumos!" The room was flooded with light, but Ron could see no Death Eaters or anything else except Hermione thrashing about in the throws of a nightmare. The lamp beside the bed lay shattered on the floor.

"Hermione," Ron said, nudging her. "Come on. Wake up."

Her eyes opened but were unfocused and she pushed him.

"Hermione," he said louder. "It's me, Ron. Stop fighting. Come on now."

She jolted awake suddenly and stared at him wild-eyed and started to cry.

"It's alright," Ron said, wrapping her in his arms and holding her close. "It was just a nightmare. You're okay."

There was a soft knock at the door. "Hermione?" It was Mr. Granger. _Oh, bloody hell!_ Ron thought frantically. The doorknob turned.

"Come in," Ron said, wincing. "She's fine, just a nightmare."

Mr. Granger took a tentative step inside with Mrs. Granger right on his heels. "You're sure she's alright?" Mr. Granger asked, a clear edge to his voice.

Ron was suddenly thankful for air-conditioning, because without it, he and Hermione would be sitting there starkers in front of her parents. "Really," Ron said. "It was just a bad dream." He was stroking Hermione's hair as he said it.

She realized that her parents were in the room and pulled away from him, pushing at her eyes with the heels of her hands to wipe the tears away. "I'm fine," she said in a choked voice.

"I guess I should get the broom and dust bin then," her father said.

Ron looked at him, confused as to what good that would do, and then he remembered the lamp was broken. "Oh, don't bother." Ron flicked his wand at it and said, "Reparo." The lamp popped itself together with a snap and Ron leaned over and turned it on.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger stood blinking at him, at a loss for words.

"They're broken all over the house," Mr. Granger finally said.

"Oh," Ron said, getting out of bed. "Well, let's fix that then, shall we?"

He touched Hermione's cheek. "Alright?"

She nodded.

"I'm just going to go help your Dad, I'll be back."

She sniffled and nodded again.

As Ron left, he was relieved to see Mrs. Granger go and sit on the bed next to Hermione.

xxx

Her mother tentatively put her arm around her daughter and smiled when Hermione leaned against her. "Oh, Hermione."

"That was awful, Mum," Hermione said, trembling.

"It was just a dream, darling," her mother said softly.

"I know, but I broke all the lamps."

"Ron and your father are taking care of that, don't worry about it."

"Mum," Hermione said covering her face with her hands. "I released raw magic, at my age. It's so humiliating. I can't believe I did that in front of Ron."

"Well, I'm sure that happens in the wizarding world all the time, nothing to be ashamed of."

Hermione shook her head. "Losing control of raw magic, it's like…it's like…wetting the bed."

"Oh," Her mother said. "Well, you'll find, dear, that those closest to us often see us at our most embarrassing moments. It's part of the price you pay for being intimate."

Hermione took a deep breath, and looked at her mother. "Still-"

"Come now, buck up." Her mother stood. "We'll have a cup of tea."

Hermione pulled on her dressing gown and stopped in Ron's room to get his, before following her mother downstairs.

Her mother had tea ready and waiting on the bar in the kitchen when Hermione came in.

"Thanks, Mum."

Her mother nodded. "Have some chamomile. It'll calm your nerves."

Hermione was quietly sipping her tea when Ron and her father came into the kitchen. "I think Ron's managed to put everything right," he said, pouring some tea for himself.

Ron saw his tatty, old, orange bathrobe thrown across one of the stools and pulled it on. "Thanks for this," he said to Hermione.

"Tea, Ron?" Mrs. Granger asked him.

"Yes, please," he said, sitting on the stool next to Hermione.

Mrs. Granger slid a cup over to him.

"I love chamomile. Mum always makes it when anyone's had a rough night," Ron said.

"I think we've all had that," Mr. Granger said.

"Sorry about that," Hermione mumbled.

Her father covered her hand with his. "We can't help our dreams."

There was a long awkward silence.

Mrs. Granger finally broke it. "I suppose you all must think me rather daft."

Everyone looked at her.

"You come home unexpectedly with Ron in tow. You wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Last summer you came home scarred and injured, and I look at Ron and see the same has happened to him. You know, Hermione, I'm not stupid. Your father and I have the exact same education." She poured herself another cup of tea. "So who at this table is going to tell me exactly what's going on?"

Hermione looked at her father, who nodded. "There's a war on, Mum. There's an evil wizard named Voldemort…"

xxx

Hermione, with Ron's assistance, told the story of Harry and Voldemort and all their adventures, good and bad. By the end of the story, Hermione's parents sat huddled together, her father's arm tightly around her mother's shoulders.

"I'm sorry I kept all this from you. I just didn't want you to worry, but honestly, this is going to spill over into your world soon enough if he isn't stopped, so you might as well know now." Hermione pushed her fingers through her hair.

Her parents were ashen faced.

"Well, I appreciate your candor," her mother said.

Ron reached out and held Hermione's hand.

Her mother stood and put the tea things in the sink. "I think it's time we were back in bed."

Ron looked at the kitchen clock. It was three in the morning. "Yeah. He took Hermione's hand. "G'night." The two of them held hands as they ascended the stairs.

Ron lay on his back with Hermione's head resting on his chest. He could tell from her breathing that she wasn't asleep. He lay watching the stars he'd enchanted on her ceiling for a long time thinking about the return to the Burrow tomorrow and the talk he needed to have with Harry.


	12. Welcome Home

Ron woke to find Hermione kissing her way down his body. They were making love before he was really fully awake. There was an urgency to Hermione's actions that at once aroused him and made him a little worried. She took the lead, straddling him without compunction. Whether it was a lack of sleep, or the fact that he'd been dreaming about Potions class when she woke him, he lasted longer this time-long enough to notice a quickening in her body-long enough to move his fingers and take her with him when he came. She fell forward on to his chest, breathing hard.

"We are definitely getting better at this," she said, as she shuddered against him.

Ron nodded and kissed the top of her head, pulling the covers back over them.

"It's going to be horrible not to be able to do this anymore." She pressed her face against his chest.

"What?" Ron exclaimed, lurching up in bed.

"Ouch!" She slid off him. "What were you expecting? Your Mum and Dad to give us our own room?"

"I…well…I...bloody hell." He fell back against the bed covering his face with his hands.

Hermione rested her head on his chest again. "I'm going to miss you."

"Bloody hell," he repeated. He looked over at the clock. It was only six-thirty in the morning. "Do we have to get up yet?"

"No. Mum and Dad won't be up for awhile. We were up so late last night, I'm sure they'll lie in."

"Good," Ron said, wrapping his arms around her. "Let's skip the cleaning charm and go take a shower."

Hermione looked at him and grinned. "Alright, then."

xXx

It was after nine o'clock when they finally descended the stairs to find her parents, looking haggard, sitting in the kitchen. Mrs. Granger made breakfast, and while they ate, the Grangers asked clarifying questions regarding the previous night's conversation about the war. Ron and Hermione answered as well as they could, but had to admit they didn't always know the answers. Clearly, the Grangers had talked long after Ron and Hermione had gone to bed.

The rest of the day had a somber air about it. Ron and Mr. Granger returned to the library and the junk from the garage. Hermione and her mother resumed knitting. All talk was in hushed tones. No one wanted lunch when Mrs. Granger offered it, but everyone had tea and biscuits at two o'clock. At three-thirty, Hermione said she and Ron should go pack. It only took a few minutes. They met her parents at the bottom of the stairs and left for the train station. No one spoke on the drive. Hermione held Ron's hand tightly the whole way.

At the station, both of Hermione's parents hugged her at the same time, murmuring things to her that Ron couldn't hear. He tried to be inconspicuous and stay out of their way.

When the three finally parted, Mr. Granger, his eyes red-rimmed, shook Ron's hand. "Take care of yourself, son, and look after Hermione as much as she'll let you."

Ron nodded, a lump forming in his throat.

Mrs. Granger threw her arms around him. "Do take care," she said.

As Hermione watched her parents walk away, Ron could see a visible change in her. It seemed to him as if she morphed from teen to woman in just a few short seconds. He wasn't sure if it was something in her posture or the tilt of her head, but when her parents were no longer visible in the crowd, she was more like herself than she'd been all weekend. She was Hermione-brilliant, headstrong, self-possessed.

She turned to him. "Let's go." As before, she navigated the crowds, acquired tickets, and found their train as though she used Muggle transportation every day.

Once again, they managed a car mostly to themselves, but this time instead of being snuggled nervously against him, she sat across from him, pulled a long piece of parchment and a quill out of her bag and started writing.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked.

"Making notes of everything we know about the Horcruxes. We've got to start somewhere."

Ron nodded, but the more Hermione talked, the less comfortable he was with the idea of looking for the bloody things.

"I think it's pretty obvious Harry doesn't have any sort of plan. But he's firm on not going back to school, so we're going to have to have some sort of strategy. The way I see it, we have two immediate concerns, a place to work and research materials."

Ron nodded again. "Both of which are available at Hogwarts."

Hermione set down her quill. "True, but Harry's been pretty clear on that subject."

"Yeah," Ron said grimly, looking out the window. "And that's all he's been clear on."

"Well, I'm going to list some possibilities, and we'll go over them with Harry when we get home."

Ron smiled to hear her refer to the Burrow as 'home.'

xXx

The train pulled into the station right at eight o'clock and Mr. Weasley was waiting for them. Ron took his arm and the two Apparated with Hermione right behind them. They were surprised to find the Burrow even more of a hive of activity than it usually was. Fred and George were home and Mrs. Weasley had moved the kitchen table out into the garden. She squealed when she saw the three of them appear at the gate.

"Oh, you're home, you're home," she cried, throwing her arms around Ron.

"Come on, Mum," Ron said, his face reddening. "I've only been away a few days."

"But your first time among Muggles, dear. It's exciting." His mother patted his arm. Then she hugged Hermione. "How are your parents, dear?"

Hermione nodded and said they were good.

Mr. Weasley clapped Ron on the shoulder. "I hope you came with lots of stories."

"Loads of stuff, Dad. Mr. Granger showed me all kinds of Muggle artifacts, and he even gave me an electric clock to give to you. I've got it in my bag."

"Really?" His father clapped his hands together. "That's excellent, let's have a look."

"Can it wait a minute? I'm dying for some pumpkin juice. Muggles don't drink it."

"Of course, come inside, come inside," his mother said.

They all trailed into the kitchen. Harry and Ginny were putting plates and glasses on a tray to bring outside.

"About time you lot were back," Harry said, giving Hermione a warm hug and shaking Ron's hand.

"It's been dead boring without you," Ginny quipped. She set two more glasses on the tray.

"Really?" Hermione said.

"You've no idea." Ginny rolled her eyes.

Ron poured Hermione a glass of pumpkin juice and handed it to her before pouring one for himself.

xXx

Dinner was a rowdy affair. Mr. Weasley and Ron had a lengthy discussion at the head of the table about all things Muggle. Fred and George kept everyone else in stitches with their stories of work. Hermione couldn't help but admire their ability to make even the most mundane day into a zany story. They spent a good three hours at the table, but the night was balmy and the food was delicious. Hermione felt a tug of guilt at how happy she was to be back.

After everyone had helped clean up, people began drifting off to bed. Finally, no one was left in the parlor but Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione.

"So, what did you do while we were gone?" Hermione asked, remembering Ginny's comment from earlier.

Ginny fell back against the sofa. "It was awful."

"Oh, come on," Harry said. "It wasn't that bad."

"Mum decided to take us shopping. It was dreadful," Ginny said, glaring at Harry.

Harry shrugged. "It did sort of go on all day."

"Thankfully, Fred and George showed up yesterday or I suppose we'd have had to clean something or weed the garden, anything to keep us busy and not on our own."

Ron's eyebrows shot up. "What's that?"

Harry shook his head. "It's Ginny's imagination, is what it is."

"No, it's not," Ginny protested. "The minute you two left, suddenly we were under a microscope. I'm thrilled you're back, now maybe they can continue worrying about what you're up to and leave us alone."

"Alone to do what?" Ron wanted to know.

"Oh, please!" Ginny got up. "I'm going to bed."

"Why do you do that?" Hermione asked Ron.

"What?" Ron asked innocently.

"On that note," Harry said and walked upstairs.

"We should go too," Hermione said. "I can barely keep my eyes open."

Ron reached out and took her hand. "Are you sure you don't want to stay here with me for a little while?"

"I'm absolutely positive that I shouldn't." Hermione stood and tugged on Ron's hand.

"Fine," he grumbled

"It's going to be lonely sleeping without you." Hermione said to Ron, as they stood outside Ginny's door. As she said it, Harry came out of the bathroom.

Harry's eyes widened. He cleared his throat. "Goodnight," he mumbled as he passed them in the hall.

When Ron came into his room a few minutes later, Harry was sitting on his cot staring at his hands. At first, Ron ignored him and got ready for bed, but finally Harry's stillness got to him. "What?"

Harry shook his head.

Ron sat on the side of his own bed, facing Harry. "What?"

Harry didn't look at him. "You're sleeping with Hermione."

Ron looked over at his pillow. "Looks like I'm sleeping alone to me."

Harry looked up him, a cross expression on his face. "You know what I mean."

Ron pushed his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, I know what you mean. So what's your point?"

"My point? My point is…well…it's Hermione, that's my point."

"I'm not following you."

Harry shook his head again. "I don't know. I mean, it's Hermione, I just can't imagine–"

"Good," Ron interrupted. "I'd rather you didn't."

"I don't mean it like that. She's just so–"

"Amazing? Incredible? Really, this is just more evidence that there's nothing that girl can't do."

Harry laughed. "If you say so. Isn't it just the slightest bit weird though? I mean, come on, Ron, you've known her since she was a little girl."

Ron shrugged. "She's not a little girl anymore, and I'm not a little boy. We've all grown up. I know you've noticed."

"Yeah," Harry said, falling back on the bed. "But still, it seems weird doesn't it? We used to all sit around playing exploding snap and making of fun of Malfoy, and now, now you're shagging Hermione, and Malfoy's a Death Eater. That's just weird."

Ron nodded his head. "Yeah, I see what you're saying, but it's alright, yeah." He knew he should say something about the Horcruxes, but Harry seemed so low, he couldn't bring himself to do it. _Tomorrow_ , he thought, _I'll talk to him tomorrow._


	13. Dirty Work

The next morning, after breakfast, Mrs. Weasley asked to speak to Ron and Ginny alone. Harry and Hermione walked out into the garden. Mrs. Weasley had asked the four of them to tackle cleaning the old stone out building where they kept the broomsticks.

"It's good we're going in first without Ron," Harry said. "That building's full of spiders."

Hermione shook her head. "I've never seen anyone with such a pathological problem with spiders."

"It wasn't so bad before Aragog." Harry opened the door to the old building.

Hermione nodded. "I have to say, not that being petrified was a picnic, but I'm glad I missed that little adventure."

Harry grinned. "It was sort of horrible."

They both said, "Only Hagrid," at the same time and laughed.

They took turns casting cleaning charms on the old storage shed. A few minutes later, Harry ventured in. "Looks like the spiders are all gone, but what a load of junk in here. There's hardly room to turn around."

"And Mum wants it all out. Aren't we lucky?" Ron said, stepping into the doorframe with Ginny right behind him.

"Everything alright?" Hermione asked.

Ginny snorted. "Apparently, Mum thinks you and Harry are unaware that we aren't rich."

Ron shook his head. "She wanted us to know, that since Dad got a promotion, and we're the last two in school, we're getting new school robes this year."

"She wants us finished with this by noon, because we're going to Diagon Alley," Ginny added.

"Good," Hermione said. "I could use some new clothes myself."

Harry nodded. "Me too. I think I've gotten taller."

Ginny patted his arm. "Sure you have, luv, sure you have."

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all laughed.

Harry cleared his throat. "Let's get this lot sorted, shall we?"

xXx

A combination of magic and hard labor finally got all the junk in the broom shed sorted. Things that were obviously good and meant to be kept went back in the shed. Things that were obviously trash were piled up for disappearing spells. Things that were good, but they weren't sure were to be kept, were left for Mrs. Weasley to go through. Hot and dirty, they all trudged back up to the house around eleven.

They drew lots and Hermione got to shower first. The others cast cleaning charms and waited their turns.

"Oh," Harry said to Ron. "Almost forgot. McGonagall sent an owl Saturday. We can take our apparition tests Friday in Hogsmeade."

Ron winced. "Then we really need to practice."

"I thought we'd do that when we got back today," Harry said. "As well as bone up on our defensive magic, charms and hexes, DADA stuff."

Ron nodded. "Good idea."

"It has been awhile," Ginny said.

Harry agreed.

Hermione called down the steps, "I'm out."

Harry, Ginny, and Ron did paper, scissors, rock for the next shower. Ginny won.

Now that they were alone in the kitchen, Ron felt compelled to bring up the Horcruxes.

"Harry," he said tentatively. "About shopping today, I don't want Mum spending all that money on school things for me if I won't be attending. It doesn't seem fair."

Harry looked at him.

"Not really fair for Hermione's parents either, you know."

"Is that what you two did at the Grangers?" Harry asked. "Plan ways to talk me into going back to school when you weren't shagging?"

Ron felt anger boil up inside him. "No, Harry, believe it or not, you hardly came up at all, oh, except when we had to explain to her parents that there's a war on and we were involved."

"You don't have to be," Harry said sharply.

"Oh, yeah, how do you reckon that?"

Harry turned away from him.

"Do you even have a plan, Harry? Because Hermione–"

"If Hermione doesn't want to go, she doesn't have to. She can go back to school. I know she doesn't want to help me."

Ron grabbed Harry by the shirt. "She went home to see her parents one last time, because she's so committed to you, she's ready to die to see this through, so don't you dare–"

Harry blanched. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Ron. Really, I didn't mean that."

Ron let him go. "How are we supposed to find these things without the library at Hogwarts? Where are we supposed to live while we're looking? What are we supposed to do for money?"

Harry dropped his head in hands. "I don't want to go back."

"What if we win?" Ron asked.

"What?" Harry looked up.

"What if we win? I want to take my N.E.W.T. levels. If we win this war, I want to be able to get a decent job. I want to be able to offer Hermione something."

Harry gave a weak laugh. "How can you even think about the future?"

Ron straightened his shoulders. "Because I expect to have one. I can't fight if I don't."

Harry stared at him, his mouth open.

Ron folded his arms across his chest. "What?"

Harry closed his mouth and put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "You're a good man, Ron Weasley. A damn sight better man than I am."

"Don't be daft," Ron said. Harry grinned crookedly, but his eyes were serious.

"I'm out," Ginny yelled down the stairs.

"Flip a coin?" Ron asked.

"No," Harry shook his head. "You go ahead."


	14. Little Things You Hide

Mr. Weasley appeared at the house just before noon to escort them all to Diagon Alley. Madam Malkin's was crowded when the five of them entered. The girls split off immediately to look at dress robes and the boys grumbled but followed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Hermione and Ginny each picked out some robes to try on and went into the dressing room. It was crowded so they decided to share a stall. Hermione was holding up a particularly flattering navy dress for Ginny's opinion when she heard familiar voices in the next stall.

Parvati's voice said. "I told him, I don't think so, Mister-Ants-In-Your-Pants."

"Can't say as I blame you. Ron had his way, and we see what that got me. Not a week later, he's mewling around Hermione just like he used to."

Hermione dropped the dress, her eyes wide. Ginny looked at her.

"I warned you not to get between them," Parvati continued.

"But he's so cute. I don't see what he sees in her. She's built like a stick and all that bushy hair. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe he likes her because she reminds him of a broom." Both girls giggled.

"Come on, Lav," Parvati admonished. "She's not that bad."

Hermione had been frozen, but now she felt like she couldn't get out of the dressing room fast enough.

"Her–" Ginny started.

"Don't!" Hermione hissed and fled.

Ginny was only partially dressed so it took her a minute before she could follow. When she walked out of the dressing room Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey," Ron said, walking up to her. "Where'd Hermione run off to?"

Just then Lavender and Parvati came out of the dressing room. Lavender tossed her hair as she walked by Ron, ignoring him. He shrugged until he saw the deadly look Ginny was giving her. A pit began to form in his stomach.

"What–" he started to ask.

"You need to find Hermione," Ginny said, pointedly. "You need to find her right now."

"But–"

"Right now, Ron." Ginny said. "I'll hold off Mum and Dad."

Ron didn't ask anything else and took off out the front door. It worked to his advantage that Diagon Alley was not as crowded as it used to be. He could just see Hermione way up the street going into the Leaky Cauldron.

xXx

Hermione walked into the pub, up to the bar, and ordered a glass of red wine.

The barkeep looked at her suspiciously but he poured the glass of wine. "Touch your wand to the glass, Miss."

Hermione did. The glass glowed green for moment.

"Enjoy," the barkeep said.

She found a quiet table in the corner and sat down. _Do not cry, do not cry_ , she chanted in her head, and drank her wine. _It's none of your business what he did with Lavender. You weren't dating. You don't own him._ She couldn't help thinking though, that she thought what they had was special, that she was special, and now she didn't feel that way. _Don't cry. Don't cry._

xXx

Ron's eyes took a moment to adjust once he entered the pub. He scanned the room and finally saw her in a dark corner past the fireplace.

"Are you mad?" he said as he sat across from her. "You can't go running off by yourself. It's not safe."

"I'm fine," Hermione said without looking at him.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked. "Did you and Lavender have a row? I saw her come out of the dressing room after you. Did she say something to you?"

"To me?" Hermione shook her head. "No."

"Then what?" Ron asked, exasperated.

"It's nothing," Hermione said. She could feel herself tearing up and hated it.

"Why are you acting like this? Surely just running into Lavender couldn't put you such a state."

She glared at him. "I didn't run into Lavender. I just overheard her talking to Parvati."

"About what?"

She continued glaring at him.

"What? Me?" He looked horrified.

"Just go away. I need some time to digest this. I'll meet up with you later."

Ron's eyes widened. "Digest what? And I'm not leaving you alone. It's not safe."

"I didn't realize you'd had sex with her, all right?" Her voice cracked. "There I've said it, are you happy now?" 

Ron's jaw dropped. "Hermione, I didn't."

"So you're telling me Lavender lied to Parvati."

"No. I mean not exactly, I mean…what did she say?" He was nervously tapping his fingers against the table.

Hermione shook her head. "You're pathetic."

His face reddened. "Well, nothing would have happened at all if it hadn't been for you."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "I made you have sex with Lavender?"

"I didn't have sex with Lavender," Ron hissed, looking around the room. No one seemed to be listening. "Not proper sex anyway." His face was scarlet. "Just…a knob job and just once."

All the blood drained from Hermione's face. "And that was my fault?"

"Well, you were the one who came home from that Christmas party with your hair all a mess and your dress askew," Ron stammered.

"What are you suggesting?" There was a threatening edge to her voice.

"Well…"

"That's just great," Hermione said, standing. "You really are stupid."

"Hey!" Ron protested, but then instantly backed down as Hermione's wand appeared. He had a sudden wave of fear and something primal reminded him that angry Hermione equals pain. To his great relief, she didn't hex him. Instead, she disappeared with a soft pop.

 _I hate that she can Apparate now._ He walked slowly back to Madam Malkin's. His parents were paying at the register when he walked in. Harry and Ginny were waiting by the door.

"Where's Hermione?" Ginny asked.

Ron shrugged.

"Didn't you find her?" Harry asked, worry clear on his face.

"Yeah, I found her. She was having a glass of wine at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Wine?" Harry asked, taken aback.

"Well, where is she now?" Ginny insisted, ignoring Harry.

"I don't know, do I?" Ron said pointedly. "She Apparated."

"Who Apparated?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she and Mr. Weasley walked up.

"Well, I need to," Mr. Weasley said, bending to kiss his wife's cheek. "Back to work." He handed the packages he was holding to Ron and disappeared.

"Where's Hermione? Did she go back home? Is she sick?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Ron frowned. "Let's just go home. I'm sure she's there." He walked toward the fireplace.

When they all emerged from the fireplace at the Burrow, Ron was disappointed not to see Hermione.

"She's probably upstairs," Ginny said, as if she could read his thoughts. "I'll just check on her."

"Oh, poor dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "Do let me know if she needs anything."

No one corrected her assumption that Hermione was sick.

Ron looked at Harry. "Fancy getting some flying in before dark?"

"Yeah, sure," Harry said.

They went and got their brooms and tossed around a Quaffle for a while, but Ron's heart wasn't in it.

"Why don't you go and talk to Hermione?" Harry asked.

"She doesn't want to talk to me."

"I'm sure that's not true." Harry tossed the Quaffle lightly up in the air and caught it.

"It's not fair," Ron said. "She acts like I'm the only one who's been with other people."

Harry sighed. He couldn't believe Ron was still upset about Krum. That was ages ago.

"She didn't think I saw her come in from Slughorn's stupid party, but I did."

"Hang on," Harry said. "What did you say?"

"I saw her after her date with that git, McLaggen."

"Ron," Harry said, shaking his head. "You didn't accuse her of going at it with McLaggen, did you?"

"Well…I mean…" Ron stammered.

"McLaggen got really fresh with her at that party, dragged her under the mistletoe and groped her. She couldn't get away from him fast enough. Didn't you notice how early it was when she got back? Didn't you notice McLaggen wasn't with her?"

Ron felt his stomach drop to the earth far below him. "Why didn't you say something about this then?"

"Because you and Hermione weren't really speaking, so I didn't see how it was any of your concern," Harry said.

"Did you at least hex that slimy git?"

"Well..." Harry shrugged. "Not at the party."

Ron ran his hands through his hair. "I've got to go. Listen, I need some time with Hermione. Can you cover for me? I'm going to fly right to Ginny's window."

Harry nodded. "Go on then."

When Ron got to Ginny's window the blinds were closed. He tapped on the window.

Ginny opened it. "Use the door."

"Come on, Gin. Be a brick. I've bollocksed this whole thing up."

"Hang on," she said, shutting the window behind her. A moment later she reopened it. "Come in. For some strange reason, she's willing to talk to you."

Ron stepped on to the window ledge and went inside.


	15. Nothing Compares to You

Hermione stood when Ron pulled himself in through the window. Her posture screamed confidence, but it was clear from her eyes, that she'd been crying. He noticed her trunk was out of the closet and open.

"You're not leaving," he said.

Hermione bit her lip. She started to say something but then shook her head. Finally, she looked at him. "I can't stay here knowing what you really think of me."

"It bothers you that I love you, that I think you're brilliant and beautiful."

Hermione blinked. "That you think I'm the sort of slag that would let McLaggen– On the first date!"

Ron shook his head. "You should have told me what he did, I would've–"

"I couldn't tell you. When I got back to the common room you were in a chair all over Lavender."

"Still–" Ron protested.

"Still, what?" Hermione asked, flicking her wand to Impreturb the door. "You were being so cruel to me, you probably would have cheered him on." A tear slipped down her cheek. She angrily brushed it away.

"Oh, right, like taking McLaggen to that party was about anything other than being cruel to me," Ron countered.

"I was supposed to go with you," Hermione said, angrily. More tears fell. "Or don't you remember that I plucked up the courage to ask you, and you said yes? It was like the Yule Ball all over again."

"Hey," Ron said. "I did ask you to the Yule Ball."

"Right, as a last resort, and oh, how I've suffered for going with someone else."

"You didn't just go with someone else!" Ron shouted. "You went with Viktor Krum and you snogged him! Six months you dated him!"

"I was fifteen! I'd never been kissed before! I'd never dated anyone. I wanted to see what it was like and he was nice."

Ron threw up his hands. "Then how is that different from me and Lavender?"

"I didn't have sex with Viktor!" she shouted.

"I didn't have–"

"Oh please!" Hermione shouted. "Don't act like oral doesn't count, especially for a girl."

"Hang on," Ron said, shaking his head. "I didn't–"

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "You let her go down on you, but wouldn't return the favor? What a prig! No wonder she hates you."

Ron's jaw dropped. "So now I'm a prig for NOT going down on Lavender?"

Hermione pressed her fingers to her temples and shut her eyes.

"Besides," Ron said petulantly. "I'm not as bad as all that. She got off, I just did it...differently. With my fingers."

Hermione glared at him. "It's not the same thing."

Ron ducked his head to hide a grin. "Well, you would know."

Hermione coughed, but Ron was pretty sure it was to cover up a laugh. She sat down on the edge of the bed. "Look, Ron, I just…I didn't realize...it hurt to find out that way, that's all." She shook her head. "And then to find out you thought I'd let McLaggen–"

"I didn't. I didn't think at all, really. I was so insane over the idea of you going to the party with him, that I didn't stop to consider what must have happened for you to come home so early, by yourself, all disheveled like that." Ron knelt in front of her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said those things. I'm sorry I ever went out with Lavender. Hell, I'm sorry I didn't ask you to the Yule Ball first thing."

Hermione sighed. "That's all in the past, which is where we should leave it. I mean, I understand why you didn't ask me to the Ball. It's the same reason you went out with Lavender. I get it, there's no need to pretend."

Ron struggled to think what she was saying. "What?"

Hermione shrugged. "You wanted to go with someone pretty."

Ron shook his head and sat back on his haunches. "Why do birds always go on like that? Lavender's not prettier than you. She's pretty; you're pretty. Cho's pretty. Padma and Parvati are pretty. Luna's pretty. Pansy's pretty. You all look different, but you're all pretty. Trust me, I'm a bloke, I know. Okay, well Millicent, now she's got a legitimate complaint. Beaten with an ugly stick, that one."

"Ron!"

He shrugged. "Sorry, but it's true." He moved forward on to his knees again and rested his hands on Hermione's thighs.

"I went out with Lavender because I was a stupid git. Not that Lavender's a bad girl. Some blokes would think she's a terrific girlfriend. She just couldn't compare to you. I knew that and so did she, and honestly, I feel really bad about that. It wasn't her fault she wasn't you." He circled his hands around Hermione's hips and pulled her forward until she was kneeling in front of him. "Everything we do is special," he said softly. "We've always been special." He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against her earlobes. She trembled as he brushed his lips against hers.

She broke the kiss a few moments later. "Ron, we can't do this here. Ginny-"

"Ginny won't come in here now. More than that, she'll see to it no one else does either. She can be a pain sometimes, but deep down, Gin's a brick." He kissed her again, deeper this time.

Hermione's conscience tugged at her, but as his lips moved to her neck, she pulled her wand off the nightstand and locked the door. "Fine," she said as she raised her arms so Ron could pull off her shirt.

xXx

When Harry went into the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley was talking to Ginny about defensive spell work.

"Hello, Harry, dear. Would you like some pumpkin juice?"

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley, that'd be great."

She handed him a glass. "Where's Ron?"

"Oh, um…" Harry fumbled for a good answer.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "He and Hermione are having a row upstairs."

"In Ron's room? By themselves?" Mrs. Weasley raised her eyebrows.

"No, Mum," Ginny said. "In mine."

"I don't think so," Mrs. Weasley said, striding forward.

Ginny caught her hand as she walked by the table. "Mum, this isn't a fight you want to get in the middle of."

Harry shook his head in fervent agreement.

She looked at both of them and sat down rather heavily on the bench next to Ginny, who got up and poured her mother a glass of juice.

"So you were saying about jinxes?" Ginny prompted.

xXx

Ron and Hermione came downstairs a little while later. Harry and Ginny were setting the table. His father was sitting in his usual place, with a mug of ale, using his wand to poke at the alarm clock Mr. Granger had sent him. His mother was lighting a fire under a large cauldron on the stove when Ron came over and kissed her on the top of the head. "Dinner smells great, Mum."

"How can I help?" Hermione asked.

Mrs. Weasley stared at them both for a moment. She sighed. "Could you chop the vegetables, dear?"

Hermione charmed two knives for the task while Ron joined his father at the table. After that, Hermione went over the recipe with Mrs. Weasley. She'd taken some interest in kitchen spells lately, she explained. Mrs. Weasley seemed pleased to tell her all about them.

xXx

After dinner, all of them went outside to practice defensive magic. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley put them through their paces until just before dusk. When they were done everyone was hot, tired, and bruised. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley went in first. Ron and Harry decided they should practice Apparition some before turning in. Hermione stayed to offer advice and Ginny just hung back to watch. When both boys had successfully Apparated from the shed to the back garden several times, Hermione declared that they would pass with flying colors.

Ron took Hermione's hand. "Come on, let's go in."

"Harry," Ginny said. "Fancy a swim?"

"Sure," Harry said, taking her hand.

"Hang on," Ron said. "You haven't got suits."

Ginny shrugged. "Be a brick, Ron."

Ron's face fell, but Hermione tugged on his hand. "Come on, let's go listen to the wireless with your parents for awhile."

Reluctantly, he followed her inside. He knew things had changed for all of them and that more difficult changes lay ahead, but as Hermione curled up against him on the sofa and they listened to the music with his parents, Ron felt ready to face what lay ahead. For the first time since Dumbledore's death, he was confident that things would work out for the best.


	16. Epilogue

Hermione awoke to the sound of someone groaning. She was disoriented at first. _Where am I?_ She had never felt so bone-tired. The pain in her side was piercing and it was painful to breathe. Her leg felt heavy and ached almost as much as her side. She had a moment of panic before she realized that she was in St. Mungo's. She looked down to see that her whole leg was in a cast. A painful memory of her thigh bone snapping and tearing through her flesh caused a shiver to run down her spine. She remembered a curse tearing through her side and a Death Eater bleeding. So much blood. The shook her head, trying to clear the image. She had no idea how she'd gotten to the hospital.

She heard the groan again and knew it was Ron. With great difficulty she sat up to see where he was. Three beds over, he was thrashing about, clearly in the throws of a nightmare. Hermione pushed back her covers and pulled her leg over so she could stand. Pain shot up her leg and raced up her side as she stood. She sifted her weight to her other leg and stars exploded behind her eyes as the pain in her side raced up and down her whole body. She steadied herself against the bed for a moment before starting a slow journey toward Ron. She had to use the two beds she passed to hold herself up, too exhausted and too focused on getting to Ron, to even look to see who occupied them. Her mind felt foggy as if she'd been drugged. She knew there had been a battle but the specifics seemed beyond her reach for the moment.

It took forever to make it across the room. Finally, she stood by Ron's bed, her breathing ragged from the effort. One side of his face was covered in bandages. He moaned pitifully in his sleep.

"I'm here, Ron," she said, pulling his covers back and getting next to him on her good side, using her hands to get her wounded leg on the bed. "I'm right here." She kissed his bare shoulder and he seemed to calm some. "I'm right here," she repeated as she fell asleep.

_~Finis~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Thank you for reading. You might also like my books: The Annie Fitch Mysteries: Exposed Fury and Hidden Fury (available March 2,2021) and the stand alone novel: One Big Beautiful Thing, available anywhere books are sold and on all digital platforms. Enjoy!


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